“Where We Sleep” moves from shared desires to stark streets, refusing to other anyone. A mantra of unity (“we want the same things”) opens the door; then the perspective flips—freedom’s illusion, the descent into cold, hunger, and being unseen. A stuttering 911-like plea and late-night madness reveal fear more than menace. The final reflection lands softly and truthfully: we were children once; we wanted love and purpose; the only difference now may be a bed and a lock. Compassion, here, is the chorus.