Under Watch

[Verse 1] Funny thing about chasing storms... When you're young, You think you're chasing clouds. You measure seasons By miles driven. Forecasts. Radar screens. Coffee gone cold. You think the story Is waiting somewhere Beneath a turning sky. You don't know yet... The story's been riding Beside you The whole time. [Verse 2] The roads we traveled Weren't ours first. Someone else Mapped those highways. Someone else Built the radios. Someone else Spent a lifetime Turning questions Into knowledge. Some came home To quiet retirements. Some became names We still remember When the sky grows restless. None of them Ever truly left. Their lessons Still ride beside us. [Pre-Chorus] Every season Leaves another lesson. Every generation Adds another page. None of us Writes the whole story. We simply hold the pen For a little while. [Chorus] Under Watch... We carry forward. Not for glory. Not for fame. But because Someone once Did the same For us. Under Watch... Every warning. Every lesson. Every hand. One generation Lifting another... Across the changing sky. [Verse 3] Then one day... Without noticing... You're the one Answering questions. Teaching classes. Checking radios. Pouring coffee For a rookie Heading toward Their first horizon. That's when You understand... The storm Was never the reason. The people were. [Verse 4] I looked up... A young crew Pulled into the lot. Maps spread Across the hood. Coffee steaming. Laughing... The same way We used to. I smiled... Finished my cup... And knew... The watch Was in good hands. [Bridge] Some voices Have grown quiet. Their echoes Never have. I still hear them... "Take your time." "Trust your eyes." "Respect the storm." Every report. Every warning. Every life protected. Carries a little Of those Who came before. We used to think We were chasing storms... Now I know... We were chasing Tomorrow. [Final Chorus] Under Watch... Means remembering. Means teaching. Means serving. Means rebuilding. The sky Will always change. The people Will always answer. One generation Leaves the notebook. Another Writes the next page. [Outro] The coffee's warm. The notebook's full. Outside... Another truck Heads west. A weather radio Crackles softly. The waitress smiles... Refills my cup. I leave A few pages blank... Some stories... Were never mine To finish.