Ledger of Small Sins (версия 2)

Intro

Composition notebook, spine cracked, page corners soft

Mr. Odell's handwriting, half the names crossed off

Not for money owed in dollars, no, for smaller things

Favors, silence, seconds saved — that's the ledger's ring

Verse 1

Fourth floor of the bodega, back room smelled like wax

Odell kept the tab book stacked behind the tax

Not for chips and sodas, nah, for heavier debts

Who lied for who, who cried for who, who ain't paid it yet

I was twelve when I first wrote a line in that book

Snitched to save my cousin, watched the officer's look

Odell said "that's a sin, son, small one, but it's real"

Wrote it down in pencil so the guilt could never heal

Fifteen, added lines for the watch I never returned

Borrowed from a man whose porch light always burned

Eighteen, wrote the biggest one — the night I ran instead

Left my boy Desmond bleeding, chose my legs instead of his head

Odell died that winter, left the book to me

Said "the sins don't vanish, they just change custody"

Now I'm the one behind the counter, keeping score

Watching kids walk sins in through that same glass door

Chorus

Every small sin's written, nothing gets erased

Carry what I owe here, carry what I traced

Ledger in my chest pocket, page for every debt

Small sins add up quiet — I ain't settled yet

Verse 2

Desmond came back healed, cane but still alive

Sat across the counter, said "let's see who's paid, who's owed, who's still alive"

I showed him page nineteen, the night I turned and ran

He read it slow and quiet like reading his own hand

Said "I forgave that Tuesday, forgave it 'fore I healed"

But forgiveness ain't erasing what the pencil sealed

That's the thing with small sins — they don't need a court

They just sit inside your ribs like debt without a report

Now I add the good ones too, balance how I can

Fixed the roof for Odell's widow, held the door for a stranger man

Walked a kid home safe past the corner where it's loud

Wrote it next to running — tried to even out the crowd

But the book stays heavier on the side that costs the most

Guilt collects like interest, guilt's the harshest host

Still I write it, still I carry, still I keep the score

'Cause the day I stop accounting is the day I'm someone's door

Chorus

Every small sin's written, nothing gets erased

Carry what I owe here, carry what I traced

Ledger in my chest pocket, page for every debt

Small sins add up quiet — I ain't settled yet

Bridge

Maybe the book was never meant to balance clean

Maybe it's just proof of every place I've been

Odell wasn't counting sins to make us pay

He was counting so we'd remember, so we'd stay

Outro

Composition notebook, spine cracked, still on the shelf

New kid's writing in it now, adding his own self

I told him "write it honest, good and bad the same"

Small sins keep the record — small sins keep your name