by Lin-Manuel Miranda, Leslie Odom Jr.
I imagine death so much it feels more like a memory
Is this where it gets me, on my feet, sev'ral feet ahead of me?
I see it coming, do I run or fire my gun or let it be?
There is no beat, no melody
Burr, my first friend, my enemy
Maybe the last face I ever see
If I throw away my shot, is this how you'll remember me?
What if this bullet is my legacy?
Legacy, what is a legacy?
It's planting seeds in a garden you never get to see
I wrote some notes at the beginning of a song someone will sing for me
America, you great unfinished symphony, you sent for me
You let me make a difference, a place where even orphan immigrants
Can leave their fingerprints and rise up
I'm running out of time, I'm running, and my time's up
Wise up, eyes up
I catch a glimpse of the other side
Laurens leads a soldiers' chorus on the other side
My son is on the other side
He's with my mother on the other side
Washington is watching from the other side
Teach me how to say goodbye
Rise up, rise up, rise up, Eliza!