[Intro — quiet voice, fingerpicked guitar] Keep the fire. Share the bread. [Verse 1] The summer slept in stacks of wood, the harvest waited in the grain. We watched the daylight leaving early, heard the wind against the pane. The earth grew still beneath our feet, the road grew empty through the trees. We learned the weight of simple things: a loaf, a coat, a little heat. [Pre-Chorus] And when the rafters bore the weight, we heard them speaking in the night. We rose to brace the weathered beams and kept the smallest ember bright. [Chorus] Keep the fire. Share the bread. Give the weary a place to rest. We will know what warmth is worth when the light returns to earth. [Verse 2] We learned to make the little last, to leave enough for one day more, to set another place at supper when someone knocked upon the door. Some nights the dark outlived our hope. Some days our hands could do no more. Then someone else would bring the wood and tend the flame we tended before. [Pre-Chorus] The winter weighed on every roof, on every heart behind a door. We took our turn beneath the burden and learned what all the saving was for. [Chorus] Keep the fire. Share the bread. Give the weary a place to rest. We will know what warmth is worth when the light returns to earth. [Bridge — exposed voice and cello] The strongest beam can bend. The steadiest hand can shake. We learn how much a heart can hold, and when to share the weight. [Instrumental — guitar motif, gentle cello response] [Final Chorus — warmer, a few voices join naturally] Keep the fire. Share the bread. Give the weary a place to rest. Now we know what warmth is worth. See the light return to earth. [Outro — quiet solo voice] The first light crossed the worn-out floor. We watched it longer than before. Keep the fire. Share the bread.
0/500