At this point in my life, I was carrying around both an iPod and a phone. I’m grateful for this in retrospect because the entire chorus came in one ridiculous rush, as I listened to the music on a loop on a crowded A train to a friend’s birthday party in Williamsburg.
I lived at the top of the A train at the time, so that meant taking the A from 207th street to 14th street, then the L into Brooklyn. I don’t know how to describe the feeling. It did not exist one moment and then there it was, coursing through my head: “Death doesn’t discriminate …”
I got out of the train in Williamsburg and began singing into the voice memo function in my iPod from the loop I was listening to in my phone. (This is why I was glad I had them both.) I said hi to my friend, wished him a happy birthday, had exactly half a beer, and turned around for another hour-and-a-half train ride home, during which I worked out the other verse variations.
Music doesn’t discriminate when it arrives either. It’ll get you on the A train if you’re open to it.
-Lin-Manuel Miranda, Hamilton: The Revolution