[Intro] [Heart] We used to have a rule. Don't start a song until everybody's ready. [Pause] Terrible rule. [Acoustic guitar begins] [Verse 1] He drew the map before the road Ran every number, checked the load Marked where he'd sleep, marked what he'd spend Marked where the whole damn thing would end Had plans for plans And lists for lists A backup route in case he missed Polished every little piece Till preparation looked like peace Said, "Next year." Then next year came. Said, "Almost." Almost stayed. [Band begins building] [Pre-Chorus] There's a line between getting ready And hiding where it's safe Between checking one more number And never leaving the gate [Band surges— CUTS.] [Heart] No. Not yet. [Crowd laughs] See? That's the problem. [Verse 2] Watched folks leave without a map Called 'em crazy from his chair Some came limping home half-broke Some sent postcards from somewhere He knew every warning Every sign Every reason to decline Knew exactly how to land Never once left on time [Drums enter harder] A runway ain't a home No matter how you decorate A gate ain't a destination Just because you learned to wait And "almost" ain't a country I— [Heart catches himself] He— [Small crowd reaction] Ah, hell. Keep playing. [Chorus] I was practicing the landing Before I ever left the ground Practicing the landing So the falling made no sound Had the wheels down in my head Before the engine came around You can spend your whole damn life Practicing the landing And never leave the ground [Instrumental drive] [Verse 3] Had a ticket in his pocket Long enough to wear it thin Kept finding one more system That he ought to check again Weather. Money. Timing. Doors. One more lock. One more chore. One more little piece of proof That maybe he should wait some more Till somebody finally asked him— "What exactly are you waiting for?" [Music drops] [Heart] Couldn't answer. That's when I knew. [Kick drum begins] [Bridge] Maybe ready ain't a feeling Maybe ready ain't a sign Maybe some doors only open After you arrive Maybe courage looks like motion Before it ever feels profound Maybe you don't learn the landing— Until something leaves the ground [Band begins enormous build] [Heart] Hold it. [Band cuts.] [Crowd groans] [Heart laughs] You felt that, didn't you? Wanted me to go. [Crowd cheers] Yeah. Me too. [Quiet] So why the hell do we keep stopping? [Drummer counts] One— Two— [Heart] No. Don't count it. Just go. [FULL BAND SLAMS IN] [Final Chorus] I was practicing the landing Before I ever left the ground Practicing the landing Trying not to make a sound But the wheels don't need my permission And the sky don't wait around You can spend your whole damn life Practicing the landing— [Heart] Or— [Band drives harder] Leave the map! Leave the gate! Leave a little room for fate! Miss a turn! Change the plan! Find out who you are when you land! [Crowd joins] LEAVE THE GROUND! LEAVE THE GROUND! LEAVE THE GROUND! [Heart] I don't know where this goes! [Crowd] LEAVE THE GROUND! [Heart] That's new. [Extended instrumental drive] [Outro] [Band never fully resolves] [Heart, over music] Funny. Spent all that time practicing the landing. [Pause] Nobody told me... leaving was the part I'd remember. [Band carries the song into the next room]
