City Swings at Midnight

When the clock strikes twelve and the neon’s alive,

The city hums a tune, and the streets start to jive.

Horns are blowin’ hot in a smoky café,

While the sidewalks shimmy to the groove of the day.

Oh, the city swings, it’s a bebop beat,

Jazz in the alleys, a rhythm so sweet.

From the rooftops high to the underground,

The pulse of the city is a jazz-soaked sound.

There’s a sax in the shadows, painting notes in the air,

A drummer in the distance taps a beat we all share.

Dancers on the pavement move to the sway,

And the moon lights the tempo of this urban ballet.

Trumpets wail, basslines roll,

The city’s alive, it’s got soul!

Improvised stories, a song in disguise,

Under the city’s electric skies.

At a diner round the corner, the jukebox hums,

While a poet on the corner snaps his thumbs.

Every voice, every step adds a note to the tune,

And the city keeps swinging till the rise of the moon.

Bop-a-doo-bop, skidda-dee-dat-dat,

The city don’t sleep, it’s where the swing’s at!

Doo-wop-dee-bop, let the rhythm ignite,

The city’s alive in the heart of the night!