[Intro: Narrator, Young Female Spoken]
The bell over the door rings at seven-thirteen.
Rafi lifts the shutter halfway,
then reads the letter again.

[Verse 1: Narrator, Young Female Rap]
The last kiosk opens with a metal sigh,
Kettle steam rising through a low gray sky.
Batteries by crackers, soap beside thread,
Bus cards by the register, yesterday's bread.
Rafi knows who pays when Friday comes,
Who needs two dollars changed into ones.
He holds spare keys and packages from rain;
Half the block stops by before the morning train.

[Chorus: Narrator, Young Female Rap]
The last kiosk keeps the corner awake,
With a cup on account and a key you can take.
The last kiosk knows what the spreadsheets omit:
Who keeps your spare key and lets late payment sit.
One shutter comes down, one lifeline gets lost;
The price on the block never shows the cost.

[Verse 2: Narrator, Young Female Rap]
He slides the rent notice out from under the till;
Three months to leave; staying triples the bill.
A coffee chain measured the windows last week,
Shot the red awning, the counter, the street.
They called the worn canvas "visual decline,"
Then praised the same color in their new design.
Mrs. Cole studies him, then looks over at me;
Nobody has to explain what triple rent means.

[Chorus: Narrator, Young Female Rap]
The last kiosk keeps the corner awake,
With a cup on account and a key you can take.
The last kiosk knows what the spreadsheets omit:
Who keeps your spare key and lets late payment sit.
One shutter comes down, one lifeline gets lost;
The price on the block never shows the cost.

[Instrumental Break][Muted trumpet plays a restrained twelve-bar variation while brushed snare and upright bass preserve the Calder motif.]

[Verse 3: Narrator, Young Female Rap]
Closing day puts a line along the curb;
No sale signs, just neighbors short on words.
Rafi gives Lila the bell from the door:
"Ring it when this block goes quiet once more."
Alvarez buys matches though he quit long ago;
Ma takes black coffee; her night bus runs slow.
Rafi locks the shutter and hands me the key:
"Keep it. That lock has no use for me."

[Bridge: Narrator, Young Female Rap]
No app holds your medicine until payday.
No chain keeps a spare key when you're away.
The shelves may be narrow, the counter worn thin;
Still, somebody notices when you don't come in.

[Final Chorus: Narrator, Young Female Rap]
The last kiosk kept the corner awake,
With a cup on account and a key you could take.
The last kiosk knew what the spreadsheets could not;
Now glass doors stand in Rafi's old spot.
One shutter came down, one lifeline was lost;
They call the block richer. We remember the cost.

[Outro: Narrator, Young Female Spoken]
Lila rings the bell in the gray stairwell.
One clean note.
Then the drilling starts.
