Verse 1 Kensington breathes heavy, like a lung that’s giving out, people standing like statues, bodies folded, spirits drowned. The street’s a quiet battlefield, no heroes, no sound — just souls trying to stay alive in a city that looks away now. Chorus Ken-sing-ton you break my heart in slow motion, a place where hope moves like thick ocean. Fentanyl shadows lying on the ground, lost faces drifting through a world shut down. Kensington… nobody wins here, but no one lets go — they just disappear. Verse 2 Arms marked like maps of places no one meant to go, eyes open but empty, like they’re watching from below. Somebody whispers “help me,” but the street is cold and slow. This ain’t sin, it ain’t weakness — it’s pain that had nowhere to go. Chorus Ken-sing-ton, you break my heart in slow motion, a place where hope moves like thick ocean. Fentanyl shadows lying on the ground, lost faces drifting through a world shut down. Kensington… nobody wins here, but no one lets go — they just disappear. Bridge If you stand here long enough, you hear the city’s confession — not the addicts’ story, but America’s omission. A country that treats the broken like they caused their own collision. Final Chorus Ken-sing-ton, you carry more truth than the rest of the map combined. A graveyard of forgotten youth, a mirror the city hides. But in the dark, I swear I saw a spark that stayed alive — a small, stubborn light saying: “I’m still trying to survive.”
