[Intro — William, loose, almost laughing] You can't catch her. Don't even try — she's already somewhere else. [Verse 1] She don't live behind a mountain. She don't flow like river's kin. She's the breath between your heartbeats, she's the sigh that lets you in. [Verse 2] Every wind that's ever wandered, every whisper, every sigh, every breath you took for granted — that's her, passing quiet by. [Chorus] An Anáilí, the one who breathes us, never held, and never bound. You don't chase her. You just notice she was always all around. [Verse 3] Kimberly reads a room by breathing — knows a lie before it's spoke. That's the Breather working through her, same as smoke knows every cloak. [Chorus repeats] An Anáilí, the one who breathes us, never held, and never bound. You don't chase her. You just notice she was always all around. [Bridge — violin and accordion trading loose, wandering lines] [Final Chorus — full, warm, unhurried] An Anáilí, the one who breathes us, in and out, and gone, and here. You can't hold her. Just breathe with her. That's as close as she gets, my dear. [Outro — William, quiet, breath audible] Go on. Breathe out. ...that's her too.
