Quiet Is Violent
Eight Thousand Club
★ in the heights ★
★ i flip the lights ★
★ and start my day ★
★ there are fights ★
★ and endless debts ★
★ and bills to pay ★
Welcome to Washington Heights, New York City - our own little slice of immigrant's paradise. This being the hottest day of the summer, people slug to and fro, sweating quarters and dimes. The day is slow and full of sleepy smirks and half-lidded eyes. Friends pass by and offer quick-witted remarks, and whole-hearted chuckles in response. Everyone is family, everyone shares eachother's debt, and everyone has eachother's backs. Mi casa, su casa - mi abuela, su abuela. Sit back and chillax.
★ in the heights ★
★ i buy my coffee and go ★
★ set my sights ★
★ on only what i need to know ★
★ but even so ★
★ when the lights go down i blast my radio ★
Down here, I own this little dime-a-piece, mom-and-pop, stop-and-shop corner store. It's not too shabby for a thang of my own handiwork. Coffee en leche, enough water to hydrate California, magazines with the juiciest gossip, and that special winning lottery ticket, we got it all here. And, best of all, air conditioning. My pride and heart, I spend all day there, and just about every I know is a welcome and loyal customer.
★ in the heights ★
★ i hang my flag up on display ★
★ it reminds me that i came from miles away ★
But - that's just the thing. Me and my little corner store got thrown straight into this tornado of chaos. You see, everyone on the block - my friends and loved ones from far and wide - are the only ones I know who buy a lottery ticket every day. It's a daily ritual. So, naturally, I was shocked straight when I saw in the newspaper that me and my little corner store had sold the winning ticket of $96,000. That's enough to get me - and everyone I know - out of our debt and into the stars. Someone here, in the heights, has that ticket. We don't know who - it could be anyone. We're all bloodthirsty to get our famished and impoverished hands on those winning numbers, because we know it would change our lives around, and we could be free. We could sail back home, shower in luxury, experience the glitz and glamour of New York City.
But - is the luck ever in our favor. While this chaos is unraveling at our feet, a string of bad things have happened to each of us, making us more and more desperate for that dough.
How far would you go for a jackpot?
★ in the heights ★
★ it gets more expensive every day ★
★ and tonight is so far away ★
★ so turn up the stage lights ★
★ we're taking a flight ★
★ to a couple of days ★
★ in the life of what its like ★
EN WASHINGTON HEIGHTS
SUMMARY
Crash-down in Washington Heights, New York, 1991. The hottest day of summer promises sweat, sweet coffee, and the daily reminder of how broke you are. Your friends on the block are the only family you have, but you all have eachother's backs. Head full of dreams, you get by every day.
Word gets out that a lottery ticket from the nearest corner store has been sold, the jackpot a staggering $96,000 - a delicious tsunami of money to you. You would do anything to get your hands on that dough.
Problem is - you know someone in your group of friends has that ticket. Would you betray them just to have the money all to yourself? Or watch them flaunt off their cash and riches, while you stay back in the heights, penniless? As a string of even more problems unravel, how desperate will you get just to have that lottery ticket?
