So many artists we meet everywhere Even in places we thought were none Staten Island the lost borough Spills of people who yearn to create They come out from corners I come out of my corner HB West the bumble bee girl Asked me the name of my dance I want to see that fire burn I want to see it hot red and loud I want to save myself Slaving in this New York City I want to roar in the face of Doubt This is saving the fire.