Change in My Pocket

Change in my pocket, still the pot stays hot
Four hands, one cord, give it all we got
Phone light on the table, tell the dark to wait
Change in my pocket, watch the small thing change our fate

Kemi counts coins on a flour sack seat
Jide says, "If I add mine, we can buy one sweet"
Tayo holds the sauce bottle, shakes the last red drop
Musa pulls the generator cord—nothing, then a cough
Roadside by the bus stop, rain sitting in the dust
The meter went quiet, but the stew still had trust
Plastic stools in a crooked line, four friends refusing "closed"
We laugh at empty pockets while the pepper starts to smoke

Change in my pocket, keep the pot on flame
Pass what you have, let it circle back again
Four small coins, one big night
When we share the little, everybody eats right

Then the buses rolled in, no lamps on the road
Hungry faces found us by the phone lights we showed
A driver brought onions, a student brought bread
Someone tied the generator cord where the loose wire shed
Kemi called, "One plate!" Jide answered, "Make it two!"
Musa found the spark, Tayo poured the stew
The dark made a doorway, every hungry neighbor came
Our last coins bought the first bowl; the crowd supplied the flame

Give a little, pass it round
Small money makes a living sound
Give a little, pass it round
Tonight the whole street knows this ground

One stool, two stools, make room by the wall
One bowl, two bowls, there is food for all
No big talk, just hands in the air
If your pocket has a little, put a little there

Remove the kick, let the room breathe slow
The sauce bottle we shook now moves row by row
Money is not a throne, it is a road under feet
It matters when it travels and brings somebody something to eat

Keep it moving—keep us moving

Change in my pocket, now the whole street sings
Pass what you have, see what tomorrow brings
Four small coins, one bright light
When we share the little, everybody eats right
Change in my pocket, hear the night reply
What leaves your hand can lift another high

Kemi, Jide, Tayo, Musa—still here, still hot
Change in my pocket, and the pot did not stop