Intro
Fourth floor kitchen table, radiator hiss
Mama's ledger open to a page I still miss
Pencil names in columns, nobody signed a thing
The block don't run on money, it runs on what you bring
Verse
Marble notebook, cover cracked, kept under the toaster
Mama's handwriting counted debts like a church-note poster
Ms. Odell owe us sugar, page eleven, autumn ninety-four
We owe the Grahams a ladder, ink still fresh by the door
Not about the money, it's about who showed
Who drove Pop to dialysis when the Buick wouldn't go
Extension cord stretched window to window, third floor share
Kept the freezer running when the landlord cut the wire
Nobody signed a contract, nobody called a bank
But everybody in that building knew exactly where they rank
I used to think it's petty, small favors, minor stuff
Then the winter hit in ninety-six and petty was enough
Mrs. Reyes brought us stew for eleven straight nights
Never asked for nothing back, just wrote her name in light
I asked my mother why she kept it, she said debts don't disappear
Said the ledger ain't for owing