Verse 1 We ask the room, and nearly all say “yes”, but still we whisper “no” and second-guess. We live by what we think the others knew, and fear a frown that never quite came through. The soft mistake, the social sleight of hand, turns common ground to something hard to stand. Chorus Tell me what you think, and I’ll tell you mine, we’ll set it on the table, line by line. If the rule is only shadow, let it fade, if it’s only silence, let it be unmade. Sing it low, sing it true, sing it slow – we can change the world by what we let each other know. Verse 2 A school is far, a uniform is dear, but hope can grow when futures feel more clear. In some homes, marriage payments tip the scale, so books become a kind of bridal tale. A classroom built can open up the gate, but customs choose who walks through it, and wait. Verse 3 A farmer counts the seasons in the soil, in sweat kept back, in careful kinds of toil. If land may slip away when grief arrives, you guard your hands while somebody survives. Less seed, less rest, less care for what will be, when tomorrow’s deed is someone else’s key. Chorus Tell me what you think, and I’ll tell you mine, we’ll set it on the table, line by line. If the rule is only shadow, let it fade, if it’s only silence, let it be unmade. Sing it low, sing it true, sing it slow – we can change the world by what we let each other know. Verse 4 In clinic light, the risk is hard to name, when trouble comes wrapped in a word like blame. Some learn from pain and quietly grow wise, some turn their eyes away from warning signs. A story told can teach, a story feared can bind, and what we do not say is what we cannot find. Bridge The past has legs – it walks into the now, through old routes drawn on water, oath by vow. Some harms were traded, priced, and called “tradition”, then stayed behind as habit and condition. Yet customs change – not quickly, not with cheers, but with small truths repeated through the years. (Repeat Chorus)
