Chalk Line Gospel

[Verse 1]
The Girard Avenue trolley sparks blue on the wire.
He's standing there Tuesday, coat thin as a prayer.
Doesn't move when the rain starts its drumming, just fixes his stare
At a second-floor window, like God might be in there.
The curb is his altar, the gutter his pew.

[Chorus]
(Sung by a second, female vocalist)
That's that chalk line gospel, baby.
The kind that don't need no church.
Just a patch of cracked concrete
To prove what a soul is worth.

[Verse 2]
His patience is tailored, a well-worn seam,
holding together some impossible dream.
Last week a kid asked him, "Mister, you waiting for the bus?"
He shook his head slowly, and whispered, "Just for one of us."
He's drawing a boundary the world can't erase.

[Chorus]
(Sung by a second, female vocalist)
That's that chalk line gospel, baby.
The kind that don't need no church.
Just a patch of cracked concrete
To prove what a soul is worth.

[Bridge]
And I watch from the corner, polishing glass,
wondering how long a true thing can last.
He's got a faith sewn so tight it could never come loose.
What's the word for that feeling? Or is it just a beautiful excuse?

[Flute Solo]

[Chorus]
(Sung by a second, female vocalist)
That's that chalk line gospel, baby.
The kind that don't need no church.
Just a patch of cracked concrete
To prove what a soul is worth.

[Outro]
The El rumbles over. The light never changes.
He's still there.