[Verse 1] Do the words we want belong here? Are they neatly woven prose? Is it for meaning, is it for fear? Is this where the melody bends? Was that stumble meant to appear? Do the notes know where they end? Or are they just passing through here? [Verse 2] I think we just tripped past the start Right over that wrinkle in time Straight into a emotional place in my heart This is where the body goes right in line [Chorus] Does the chorus know it's late? Did the verse arrive too soon? Are we writing by design? Or listening to the tune? [Verse 3] Do the rhythms know their place? Do they wander year to year? Are we building grace on grace? Or rearranging atmosphere? [Bridge] We need to find a way to use this space! There's a bit of room right here, We'll find some stuff, with a bit of taste. Then the fun rises, and appears! [Chorus] Does the chorus know it's late? Did the verse arrive too soon? Are we writing by design? Or listening to the tune? [Verse 4 - Resolution] So maybe the chorus knows it's late, And maybe the verse was right on time — Not writing by design, Just living inside the rhyme. The rhythms always knew their place, They weren't just passing through — Not building grace on grace, Just becoming what they grew into. [Outro] (soft, half-spoken, fading) We found the space. We used the room. We stopped asking why — And just let it bloom.
