Oh, I’ve got the world all figured out, Every face, every place, I could draw you the map. I’ve written the plot, and I know the end— I can spot the hero, the foe, the friend. But every time I’ve been “so sure,” Something small slipped through the door… Is it truth… or just the tale I tell myself? Am I painting the night and calling it the day? If the pages bend, could I start again— And let another voice have a say? You spoke, but I heard something else, I saw what I swore was real. But maybe I’m chasing ghosts through mirrors, When the window’s been here to reveal. And maybe I’ve been the one who’s blind, Telling stories in my mind… Is it truth… or just the tale I tell myself? Am I painting the night and calling it the day? If the pages bend, could I start again— And let another voice have a say? What if your story could meet mine, And together we’d find a truer line? What if my lens could shift, could change— And I’d see the world in wider frames? Now it’s truth… reshaped by the tales we share, Not just my painted night, but your dawning day. When the pages bend, we can write again— And let the truest voice have a say. One story, told together… today.
Comments are disabled on this song