[Verse 1] In every heart there’s a river of words, a quiet and silver refrain, A poem that blooms in the dark of the night, then folds itself back into rain. We carry the lines in the chambers of thought, like letters we never send, And hum all the tunes that we learned in our youth, but never begin at the end. [Verse 2] There’s a song in the chest of the lonely and brave, a melody tender and true, It rises like smoke from an old wooden fire, then disappears into blue. We know every note, we can feel every chord, we hear it when no one is near, But morning arrives with its ordinary light, and the music grows silent with fear. [Chorus] Oh, the poem we carry, the song we conceal, The words we don’t write, the songs we don’t feel. They wait like wildflowers beneath winter snow, For a hand to discover, a voice to let go. [Verse 3] Some poems are written in glances and sighs, on windows at closing of day, Some songs are whispered by old country roads, then carried by wind far away. Perhaps all the verses we leave in our hearts are not lost, though they never are known, For love is a language that lives in the soul, even when spoken alone. [Bridge] So if you have words that are burning like stars, don’t let them fade into night, If there is a melody beating within, give it the breath of your life. For each of us carries a poem and a song, unfinished, but waiting to be free, And maybe the words that were never once written are the words meant for me. [Chorus] Oh, the poem we carry, the song we conceal, The dreams we keep quiet, the truths that we feel. They wait like wildflowers beneath winter snow, For a hand to discover, a voice to let go. [Outro] And if someday the silence grows deep, and the last golden evening is gone, May someone remember the words in our hearts, the verses we carried along. For most leave a poem unwritten behind, and a song that was never sung, But somewhere in silence, their beauty remains, like a bell on an old distant tongue.
