"Stayin' alive," he sang softly, stepping off the curb and into the flow of the city [1].
The rhythm of the sidewalk was the only thing Tony could count on. At twenty-two, with his hair feathered just right and a paint-stained shirt that felt more like a costume than a uniform, he walked through the Brooklyn morning as if the concrete were a stage [1]. bee_gees_stayin_alive_lyrics
He wasn't just walking to work; he was surviving. He was dancing on the edge of a Brooklyn dream, and as long as the song didn't stop, he'd be alright. "Stayin' alive," he sang softly, stepping off the
He felt the eyes on him—the "music loud and women warm"—even though the morning air was actually quite brisk [1]. He’d been kicked around since he was born, or at least it felt that way [1]. His boss at the hardware store was always shouting, his father was always disappointed, and the city was always loud. But when he moved like this, he was untouchable. He wasn't just walking to work; he was surviving