(Intro) (A sharp, upright bass riff kicks in, walking with a swagger. The piano hits a jaunty, syncopated chord progression. The snare snaps with a crisp, dry brush sound. A brass section stabs the air, quick and bright, then drops into a steady, swinging groove.) (Verse) The alleyway is waking up, shaking off the soot I’m feeling like a brand new soul in a worn-out boot The neon’s flickering a tune I recognize There’s a little bit of daylight peeking through the lies I saw the grifter on the corner give his watch away He said he’s done with counting minutes, he’s got things to say. (Verse) The landlord’s sleeping soundly, he forgot to lock the gate The city’s got a pulse again, it’s not too late I traded in my sorrow for a pack of peppermint I’m spending all the loose change that the heavens sent There’s a rhythm in the wreckage, there’s a swing in the debris And if you look a little closer, you might find some room for me. (Chorus) 'Cause the sidewalk’s got a second wind, the pavement’s starting to hum You can hear the distant rumble of a garbage-can drum We’re reinventing misery, turning lead into gold Selling back the secrets that the shadows never told Yeah, the grime is just a polish, the decay is just a stage And we’re turning over every single dirty, rusted page. (Verse) The waitress at the diner stopped complaining ‘bout the tips She’s got a brand new lipstick on her trembling lips She’s pouring coffee like it’s liquid sunshine from a pot Giving extra sugar to the customers she’s got And the guy in the trench coat, he put his pistol down He’s whistling a melody that’s brand new to this town. (Verse) We’re patching up the rafters with a little bit of prayer There’s a frantic, wild magic hanging in the heavy air You don’t need a tuxedo just to feel like you’re a king You just need to listen to the song the city’s trying to sing It’s loud and it’s messy, it’s a jagged kind of grace But it’s looking a hell of a lot better on your face. (Chorus) 'Cause the sidewalk’s got a second wind, the pavement’s starting to hum You can hear the distant rumble of a garbage-can drum We’re reinventing misery, turning lead into gold Selling back the secrets that the shadows never told Yeah, the grime is just a polish, the decay is just a stage And we’re turning over every single dirty, rusted page. (Bridge) (The brass section flares up, a triumphant, discordant roar. The piano dives into a boogie-woogie run that feels like running for a bus. Everything is tight, punchy, and reckless.) It ain’t heaven, but it ain’t the pit! It’s just enough room for a man to sit! Keep the tempo, don't you dare look back! Keep the steam engine rolling on a broken track! (Chorus) 'Cause the sidewalk’s got a second wind, the pavement’s starting to hum You can hear the distant rumble of a garbage-can drum We’re reinventing misery, turning lead into gold Selling back the secrets that the shadows never told Yeah, the grime is just a polish, the decay is just a stage And we’re turning over every single dirty, rusted page. (Outro) (The ensemble keeps the swing, but begins to thin out, leaving only the bass and the snare rhythm. The piano plinks a high, hopeful note that hangs in the air.) Yeah, turn the page. It’s a new edition. Same old street. Better intermission. (One final, punchy horn blast) Yeah.
