By the time the track faded into a haunting, hollow echo, Protiva reached the bridge overlooking the highway. Below him, the headlights of cars blurred into a river of white and red. He looked down at his shoes, dusted with the fine gray powder of the city.
“Every crack in the sidewalk is a verse I haven’t finished yet,” he muttered under his breath, his rhythm locking into Rato's steady, industrial loop. Protiva - Po betonu (prod. Beatjunkie Rato)
Should we lean more into the of the city or focus on the internal monologue of the lyrics for the next part? By the time the track faded into a