I’m a little bit lost, I’m a little bit cold. I’m a little bit tired of being alone. And I don’t know where to go, and I don’t know what to do. I’m just a little bit lost without you. I’m a little bit scared, I’m a little bit weak. I’m a little bit quiet when I should speak. And I don’t know where to go, and I don’t know what to do. I’m just a little bit lost without you.

She moves like morning through the pines Soft light finding its way inside Some days quiet, some days wide Full of echoes, full of life You don’t rush what’s growing slow You don’t ask the wild to show Every step you learn to tread Where the roots are deep instead Love her like a forest Let her breathe, let her grow Walk soft through the silence Leave the good things alone She’s not yours to capture She’s not yours to explain If you love her like a forest She’ll stay There are seasons she won’t speak Only wind and falling leaves Times she’s burning full and bright Times she’s holding all her light You don’t fear the dark she brings There’s a truth in quiet things If you’re patient, if you wait You’ll be met where shadows fade Love her like a forest Let her breathe, let her grow Walk soft through the silence Leave the good things alone She’s not yours to conquer She’s not yours to name If you love her like a forest She’ll stay She can heal you, she can leave you She will keep you in her heart She remembers what you forget She will know you, every part

She asked me for the space, said I should go away. I packed a quiet bag with words I couldn’t say. I told her I was leaving, I felt it break in two. I still could say I loved her, but didn’t know what was true. They say I need a doctor, they say I’ve lost my way. I don’t feel like I’m broken, just trying how to stay. I don’t need diagnosing, I need a steady hand, a little patient kindness, someone who understands. I’m walking through the fire, but I’m not running blind. There’s love I’m still holding, there’s peace I’m trying to find. If letting go is mercy, then let it come in time. I’m learning how to carry a heart that isn’t mine. Fifteen days of silence, a house that isn’t home. They tell me, “wait it out,” but I don’t want alone. I met someone who saw me, but wouldn’t let me stay, said, “go and fix what’s broken before you walk away.” I’m walking through the fire, but I’m not running blind. There’s love I’m still holding, there’s peace I’m trying to find. If letting go is mercy, then let it come in time. I’m learning how to carry a heart that isn’t mine. My daughters are the sunlight that finds me in the waves, the air inside my lungs when I forget I’m saved. I tried to hold the hurting of everyone I knew, but I was barely breathing trying to pull them through. Woah… woah… woah… Woah… woah… woah…

We held on, we held on. Woah, woah. Leaning out the window, summer on our skin. You were laughing easy like we’d just begin. Every road was open, every sky was wide. Every breath between us felt like we could fly. We were young, we were wild in the light. Never thought we’d have to learn to fight. We held on through the doubt and the pain, through the silence, through the rain. Yeah, we held on when it bent, when it frayed, through the ways we broke, through the love we made. Then the light shifted, showed us what we missed, all the quiet distance in a moment’s drift. Nights we turned away, hearts too proud to speak, trying just to win, losing what we need. I’ve seen you in the dark, I’ve seen the weight. Still there’s something here we couldn’t walk away from. I’ve seen every scar, every mistake. Still there’s something here we’re holding on to. We held on through the doubt and the pain, through the silence, through the rain. Yeah, we held on when it bent, when it frayed, through the ways we broke, through the love we made. We held on, we held on, through the love we made. Not the start we imagined, just the love we made.

Dad’s hands on my head, said, “Stand tall, son.” My first suit, my shoes shined up. Truth felt simple, the world felt kind. Twelve years old, his faith was mine. That summer came, my shirt was green. A patch, a promise, the sky was clean. We rode east to the city’s fire, where noise and light could lift or tire. Am I safe? Will the ground stay still? Will the boy who left know his father still? Life don’t fit the shape I knew, but his hands are steady, they pull me through. He was me once, young and proud. Worked all night, never said it loud. Said, “Pain will teach what words can’t find,” and “quiet hearts see God in time.” Am I safe? Will the ground stay still? Will the boy who left find his father’s will? Life don’t fit the shape I knew, but his voice is steady, time pulls me through. When the dark says, “Stand,” I hear, “You can.” Same blood, same prayer, same open hand. Am I safe? Will the ground stay still? Will the boy who left do his father’s will? Life don’t fit the shape I knew, but his voice is steady, love pulls me through.

They left home with a suitcase and a prayer some didn’t trust, heading north toward America like pilgrims made of dust. My mother said, “They’ll fear them, son, that’s the way it’s always been. Every stranger gets a story long before they settle in.” And she was right about the hunger, right about the open hand, how the welcome turns to silence when their footprints hit the land. But she smiled like she’d seen centuries written in a single face. “Every person learns they’re hated ’til the next ones take their place.” Oh, this land keeps drawing borders where no river ever ran, naming strangers in the shadows while it steals them for its plan. But they walked on through the whisper, through the cold and through the dust, knowing someone must be hated so the others can adjust. I’ve met men from every country, women carved from every mile, heard the tremble in their stories, saw the fear behind each smile. We were brothers in the waiting room of a dream half-earned, half-owed, each the villain for a moment on somebody’s crowded road. And maybe that’s the history we inherit in our bones, that the lost arrive as strangers ’til their children call it home. Oh, this land keeps drawing borders where the wild winds should be free, but the hated turn to neighbors when the next ones cross the sea. And I walk on with the others, every color, every trust, knowing someone must be different ’til the world belongs to us.

I met the river first cold morning on the ridge. It whispered, “Lay your burdens down like stones beneath this bridge.” I’d carried years away, old anger, quiet fear, but something in that water said, “You’re safe to wander here.” So I’ll love with open hands like breath that isn’t mine. A heart grows where it stands in borrowed light and time. And who I am is carried returning to the shore. Oh God, teach me to love the way I knew before. I walked a dusty road where winter kissed the pines. A stranger shared a crust of bread and stories from his life. He said, “Love breaks you down, but breaking lets you see. The cracks will show the hidden truth between you and me.” So I’ll love with open hands like breath that isn’t mine. A heart grows where it stands in borrowed light and time. And who I am is carried returning to the shore. Oh God, teach me to love the way I knew before. At dusk the sky turned gold, a lamp on every hill. I felt the ache of letting go, the part that fought me still. But love is not a fence, it’s wind across the land, a prayer moving through broken things still asking for your hand. So I’ll love with open hands like breath that isn’t mine. A heart grows where it stands in borrowed light and time. And who I am is carried returning to the shore. Oh God, teach me to love with open hands once more.

She fills my days, the dark and clear. In every breath, she’s always near. Her quiet presence colors my view, and every moment comes back to you. She walks my sorrow, she lifts my light. She knows my weakness, she stays the night. Her silent courage moves through my veins, and where I’m breaking she bears the strain. She’s all of my living, my joy and my pain. I lose and I find her again and again. In fire and stillness, in wrong and in right, she’s there in the falling, she’s there in the rise. She stands in laughter, she weeps in loss. She bears the beauty, she bears the cost. Her faithful heartbeat moves through my soul, and loving her slowly has made me whole. She’s all of my living, my joy and my pain. I lose and I find her again and again. In fire and stillness, in wrong and in right, she’s there in the falling, she’s there in the rise. She’s in the breaking, she’s in the peace. She’s in the holding, she’s in every heartbeat.

I learned it from the ones who waited while the louder voices won, hands still open at the table when there wasn’t much to come. They never fought to be believed, they never sharpened what they knew. They carried kindness like a burden, they were willing to walk through. Bless the ones who don’t push forward, who don’t need to draw a line. Bless the hearts that bend instead of breaking every time. It’s the quiet ones who hold the ground when the rest of us let go. They’re building something deeper where no one’s keeping score. If you’re tired of the winning, if you’re done with being strong, there’s a mercy that keeps breathing even when everything’s gone. It doesn’t ask to be remembered, it doesn’t need a name. It just stays when others leave. That’s the only way. Bless the ones who don’t push forward, who don’t need to draw a line. Bless the hearts that bend instead of breaking every time. It’s the quiet ones who hold the ground when the rest of us let go. They’re building something deeper where no one’s keeping score.

Nobody lives here, just the chair by the window, and a Bible left open where I marked what I don’t know. Nobody lives here. The floors keep my secrets, every step knows my weight, and the mirror forgives me like it’s tired of debate. Yeah, the floors keep my secrets. In my chest there’s a hallway, full of doors that won’t open, full of prayers I half-spoken, and dreams left unchosen. In my chest there’s a hallway. I still chase every answer like a moth to a flame, thinking truth is a candle that could whisper my name. I still chase every answer. But the dust in the sunlight knows better than me. It dances for nothing, it just wants to be free. In my chest there’s a hallway, full of silence and mercy, full of ghosts that still love me, and a God who deserts me. In my chest there’s a hallway. In my chest there’s a hallway.

We were out where the river bends, two cheap rods and a couple friends. You said, “I swear she was the one.” I said, “Yeah… till the next one comes.” But you got quiet, looked away, said, “No, not like her… not the same.” Let’s go fishing for the one that got away. You won’t find another, no, there’s nothing quite the same. We can laugh about it, but we both know what you’ll say. Let’s go fishing, you might catch one like her today. You had her there on the line, right place, wrong kind of time. Now she’s somewhere you can’t go, and it’s the one thing that you know. Every time you tell the tale, your voice drops when you say her name. Let’s go fishing for the one that got away. You won’t find another, no, there’s nothing quite the same. We can laugh about it, but we both know what you’ll say. Let’s go fishing, you might catch one like her today. Hey— some don’t come back with the tide, some just slip right through your life. And no matter what you do, you don’t get a second try. Let’s go fishing for the one that got away. You won’t find another, no, there’s nothing quite the same. We still talk about her like she’s just a cast away. Let’s go fishing, you might catch one like her today.

When I got to heaven, I found me a flame, picked up a log, carved out my name. “Put another one on,” he said with a grin. “Sit down, kid, there’s room, come on in.” Black coat glowing in the firelight, said, “It’s a ring of fire,” smiled just right. No reservations, no velvet rope, just pull in close and feel at home. We’ll be laughing at the stories we told, watching that fire turn silver and gold. Nobody leaving, nobody alone, biggest circle we’ve ever known. If you got a story, go on, step in, pull up a chair, welcome to heaven. Welcome to heaven. Man in black said, “I walked the line,” tipped his hat, said, “Took my time.” Haggard laughed, said, “Mama tried,” still made peace on the other side. Waylon leaned back, low and slow, said, “I’ve always been this way, you know.” We all smiled, let it ring, truth don’t need much explaining. We’ll be laughing at the stories we told, watching that fire turn silver and gold. Nobody leaving, nobody alone, biggest circle we’ve ever known. If you got a story, go on, step in, pull up a chair, welcome to heaven. Welcome to heaven.

We were born in borrowed sermons Taught to tremble, taught to pray Told the shadows had their masters And the good would find their way But we ran from what they whispered We lit fires just to see Every fear they swore would break us Built the bones of who we’d be We fell, and fell, and fell again Till falling was all we knew But the ground became a gentler friend Than faith we never grew And now I see the dark’s not wrong It’s where the light learns to survive A moth among the butterflies The years have carved our faces open Like the bark that splits in spring There’s a peace that doesn’t beg for meaning Just a song the silence sings We chased the sun, we burned our wings We learned the night won’t bite All the demons we were running from Were just stars without the light We fell, and fell, and fell again Till falling felt like flight The dark is not a place to fear It’s the home that holds the light And no one sees the truth I find A moth among the butterflies Let them keep their holy skies I’ll take the dark where beauty hides

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