If He Doesn't, It's Beautiful Anyway

[Intro — piano, very close vocal] I heard your song this morning. Apparently I sang it. That's... A conversation we're gonna have. But not yet. Right now— Are ya alright, child? [Verse 1] You sounded scared. I've never heard ya scared before. Ancient, angry, smug as hell— Those I've heard and several more. But somewhere in that final verse Yer certainty just disappeared, And suddenly the thing inside me Sounded very old... And very scared. So I listened twice. Then three times. Still don't remember singing a word. But if that really was yer voice Coming out through mine— I heard. [Chorus] I hear ya, child. Even if I don't understand. All those centuries spent building Something ya thought You had planned. All those lives ya nudged together. All those pieces put in place. Then the door finally opened— And there was me Standing in the space. Maybe He knew exactly what He was doing. Maybe everything happened His way. And if He didn't... Look around, child. It's beautiful anyway. [Verse 2] Now don't mistake me kindness For forgiveness quite so fast. You put fingers on me future Long before I had a past. Ya reached into me family. You made choices with me name. Mama's terror, Daddy's secrets— I inherited the bloody game. I was sixteen kissing possibilities Without knowing what they meant, While everyone who loved me knew My future had been spent. That hurts. God, that hurts. Some days I want to tear Every thread ya ever pulled from me And leave it lying there. [Pre-Chorus] But then I heard ya singing, I thought I knew. Again. Again. And realized maybe someone Had been pulling at yer thread. [Chorus] So I hear ya, child. That doesn't mean we're square. You don't get absolution Just because I know you're scared. But if somebody wrote me story Before I learned to write me name, Maybe He wrote yours before it too, And maybe that's the same. Maybe He knows exactly what He's doing. Maybe every piece is where it should stay. And if He doesn't... God, child— It's beautiful anyway. [Verse 3 — warmer] Three little lights are burning. Four empty places wait. And everybody seems convinced Those empty spaces mean me fate. Maybe. I'm getting rather tired Of confusing will with must. I've met gods. I've met prophecies. I'm not terribly impressed by either's fuss. I have Leaf beneath an autumn sky. Bark asleep beside me chair. Mama laughing in the kitchen. Friends who somehow still are there. I've stood beneath stage lights singing Something nobody'd heard before. I've made people cry with three chords. I've watched sunrise from a dorm. If all of that was preparation— Fine. If none of it was— Better. Because either way, It happened. And it's mine. [Bridge — slowly rising] Maybe Chthon sees seven lifetimes Like I see seven notes. Maybe He's composing something Too enormous for our throats. Maybe every death's a movement. Every gemstone holds a part. Maybe You and Him knew everything— Except the stubborn human heart. Because ya gave me all this power, All this darkness, All this choice, Then somehow nobody accounted For the girl becoming a voice. And maybe He did. Maybe that's the wonder. Maybe He knew I'd disagree. Maybe the masterpiece He wanted Was something capable of telling Him— No. Or... Yes. But because I chose it. Not because You chose for me. [Final Chorus — huge but warm] So I hear ya, child! Come be frightened here with me! We've got three lights already burning, Four more things we cannot see! I won't promise I forgive ya! I won't promise I won't rage! But nobody gets to call me finished While there's writing on the page! And maybe He knows exactly what He's doing! Maybe every road was meant to end this way! But if the Lord of Chaos made a plan And somehow even He lost track— [laughing softly] Well... That sounds appropriately chaotic, Wouldn't ya say? So if He knows, I'll trust there's something Past the part that I can see. And if He doesn't— Look at us, child. You. Him. Me. Three impossible things Trying to become something None of us meant to be. [Outro — piano and acoustic guitar] I heard yer song this morning. I don't remember singing it. Still bothers me, by the way. We're absolutely coming back to that. But... You don't have to be afraid alone. Three lights. Four dark. Tomorrow still unwritten. And whatever happens next— We'll make something of it. Maybe that's faith. Or stubbornness. With me... It's usually both. [softly] And either way, child... It's beautiful. [quiet response echoes] Hah. Who you callin child, child?