child female vocal — slow orchestral / piano / strings [Intro — instrumental] Soft piano. Very distant strings. No drums. [Verse 1] I still remember your hands, Smelling of herbs and rain. You showed me how to stop the blood, How to take away the pain. You fixed my bandages twice, And laughed when I tied them wrong. You said, “A healer must be gentle…” I thought you'd teach me for so long. [Instrumental pause] [Verse 2] That evening by the lake, I rested against your side. I called you my second mother… And you held me while I cried. I didn't know that little bench Would keep our final night. I thought we'd have a hundred more. I thought we'd be alright. [Refrain — very quiet] Lyra… What am I supposed to do? You taught me how to heal a wound… But never one shaped like you. Lyra… I know you told me, “Run.” But how could I keep running When you couldn't come? [Long instrumental break] Strings grow slightly. A distant wordless adult female voice begins humming — Lyra’s motif, but no lyrics. [Verse 3] Your notes are still so careful, Your medicine still smells the same. Your glasses, books and little things Keep whispering your name. And everybody tells me That none of this was mine to blame… But when I close my eyes at night, I see that moment all the same. [Bridge — almost spoken] I came back. I know you told me not to. I came back because… You were my mother too. [Instrumental silence — a few seconds] [Final refrain] Lyra… I wish I'd said it twice. I wish I'd held you longer That evening by the lakeside. Lyra… If somewhere you can hear— Your little healer's trying. I'm still here. [Outro] Adult female humming returns very faintly. Child voice, almost whispered: I miss you, Mom. Piano note. Silence.
