The music wafted in from my own open window.
And they told me I don't need to worry.
As if it were that easy... I felt myself shaking my head.
Summer came like cinnamon, so sweet
It's so freakin' hot in here. It's like an oven.
Little girls double-dutch on the concrete.
I glanced out the window. Stillness.
Darker than usual as the moon appeared to be hiding.
Where was that music coming from?
Was that a voice singing along?
I pressed my face against the pane. Couldn't see a thing.
Girl put your records on.
There WAS someone singing.
Tell me your favorite song.
I found myself humming. Smiling even.
You go ahead, let your hair down.
Then I heard it.
A single gunshot.
Just go ahead let your hair down.
Only one voice this time.
You're gonna find yourself somewhere,
** Lyrics from Put Your Records On, Corrine Bailey Rae