Unanswered on Washington

[Verse 1]
The old post office steps on Washington Avenue soak up the sun.
Her hand-drawn sign says 'WE ARE STILL HERE', the marker starting to run.
It's five thirty-five on a Tuesday in June, feels hotter than it should.
She stands like she’s grown right out of the wood.

[Pre-Chorus]
And the mayor's car glides past, a ghost in the heat,
She doesn't flinch, doesn't move her feet.
Just a slow, steady breath in the thick river air,
A whole thunderstorm building up quiet behind her stare.

[Chorus]
When the streetlights hum and the posters curl,
Where do you take the weight of the world?

[Verse 2]
A man by the door mutters, "'They ain't listenin' nohow.'"
But her gaze is fixed past the sycamore bough.
On a coal barge crawling the slow Ohio brown,
As a far-off train horn echoes through town.

[Pre-Chorus]
And the camera crew packs up, another story to leave,
She doesn't watch them, just adjusts her sleeve.
There's a future she's holding that no one else sees,
In the barometric pressure between the cypress trees.

[Chorus]
When the streetlights hum and the posters curl,
Where do you take the weight of the world?

[Bridge]
That evening will fold like a worn-out map.
This feeling will settle right back in the trap.
And I know I’ll miss this stubborn belief, right here, right now,
Somehow.

[Outro]
When the sun is gone and the silence unfurls?
Yeah, where do you take it?