Verse 1 I counted every way that I got here, half of them were never up to me. Kept waiting on a turn that didn't turn — the worse it got, the more I tried to see. And isn't that the strangest part to say: I was hopeful in the middle of the ache, holding on to something with no name, calling it a future for my sake. Pre-Chorus And I'm tired — not the kind that sleep can fix. The kind that comes from reaching for a light that keeps on moving back. Chorus But I've watched this dark before — I know the way it goes. It doesn't ask me if I'm ready, it just comes, and then it slows. I don't know that it's coming, I just know the dark can't stay. There is night because there's morning. There is night because there's day. Verse 2 I stopped demanding proof before I'd move. The proof was never coming, that's the catch. So I quit negotiating with the night and started counting hours I could catch. You learn to walk a road you cannot see by trusting that a road is still a road — nobody handed me a guarantee, just the going, and the weight I chose to hold. Bridge Hope was the heaviest thing I ever carried — so I set it down and just kept walking. Turns out I don't need to feel the sun to know the earth keeps turning, keeps on turning. The dark was never personal. It never knew my name. It comes for everybody equally, and it leaves the same. Final Chorus So I've watched this dark before — I finally know the rule. It isn't here to break me, it's just doing what it do. I don't have to believe it, I don't have to pray — there is night because there's morning. There is night because there's day. Outro (soft, almost spoken) Day will break. It always does. Not because I earned it — just because it does.
