[Verse 1] She leaned against a dorm room corner, Still smelling like a music store. Twice she watched me cross that threshold, New life playing on the floor. Tiny breaths filled up the silence Like a long-awaited song. Those hands that learned to cradle them Were once afraid of being held. She never needed words to know— She’d seen both stories for herself. [Pre-Chorus] Six strings, One old body, Same place on the wall. Somehow she remembers Every version of us all. [Chorus] She never knew tomorrow, But she never doubted dawn. She watched me lose myself, But knew I wasn’t gone. Long before I learned to hope, She could already see There was someone growing Inside the girl I’d been. She never told me who I’d be. She just kept waiting there for me. [Verse 2] She stood beside the darkest evening When I almost slipped away. She watched me choose one breath, Then one more, And somehow choose to stay. If wood could carry prayers, I think she carried mine. Now she greets me every morning Like she’s kept them all this time. [Bridge] My fingers ache when I’ve ignored her, Like she’s asking, “Where’ve you been?” She knows exactly who I become When I let the music in. She held the songs I couldn’t sing Until I found my voice again. [Final Chorus] She never knew tomorrow, She just trusted there’d be light. She held the songs I couldn’t sing Until I found my voice inside. If every scar’s a chapter, Then every chord’s a page. She knew I wasn’t finished Long before I knew my name. Now every time I hold her, It’s not just music that begins. It’s every version of myself Coming home again.
