Verse 1)She walks the platform at Central StationWith a cracked phone and a taped-up shoeShe feels the pulse of a changing nationBut no one looks at the girl they walk throughShe steps outside where the day is breakingTo find the rhythm the streets are making.(Verse 2)Down George Street pavement the crowds are streamingPast glowing windows and towers highThrough Chinatown where the lights are gleamingAnd smoke rises up to a winter skyShe catches words in the crowded spacesAnd reads the stories on passing faces.(Verse 3)She pulls a screen from her tattered pocketAnd taps a world that is all her ownA silver wire in a rusted socketA secret symphony made of stoneShe types a prompt in the A.I. appAnd lets the phone 🤳 clear her map.(Verse 4)A lofi beat for the early hoursA techno pulse for the city grindShe builds an orchestra made of towersInside the corners of her mindThe chords go ringing down Pitt Street MallA grand design that belongs to all.(Verse 5)By Circular Quay where the ferries openThe white foam dances against the blueShe writes a song for the wordless spokenA track to carry the day right throughShe looks on up to the Harbour BridgeAnd watches light on the steel-grey ridge.(Verse 6)The sun goes sinking behind the waterThe shadows stretch on the harbor floor She walks the path like a wandering daughterTo find her place by the eastern shoreWhere grand old sails of the Opera HouseKeep quiet watch for a harbor mouse.(Verse 7)Beside the steps in a corner hiddenA cardboard box is her only bedA humble home in a place forbiddenWith cool dreams inside her headShe crawls inside from the coastal breezeAnd lets her spirit find its ease.(Verse 8)She plugs the phone to a solar batteryAnd hits generate on a final trackShe doesn't care for the city’s flatteryShe has the stars right above her backThe music swells through a single wireAnd fills the box like a holy choir.(Outro)Sleep now, Betty, let the sails spin roundYou are the master of the city soundThe harbor bridge is glowing bright and wideAs music sings you to the morning tideSails at night, floating freeJust you, your phone, and the symphony...
