| Perhaps it is fitting
|
| The sky heavy and spitting at the ground
|
| The sun hid above us
|
| With a grip on my breath it had found
|
| I’d let it out slow as you stood to go
|
| And it rose high just as I slipped down
|
| Then I whispered your name
|
| Knowing well you would not turn around
|
| We stand at the door
|
| Like the holy make war
|
| Both of us sure we are right
|
| We move through it unseen
|
| For the darkness between us
|
| But I mean to leave on the light
|
| I want to let go of
|
| All I think I know of how
|
| Our story unwinds
|
| And might turn back to find us somehow
|
| We’ve both turned away
|
| When wisdom would say
|
| We’ve squandered forgiveness and time
|
| And all they would allow
|
| If I could offer both of us mine
|
| We stand at the door
|
| Like the holy make war
|
| Both of us sure we are right
|
| We move through it unseen
|
| For the darkness between us
|
| But I mean to leave on the light
|
| What held us together
|
| Lay like a feather in my hand
|
| Not enough weight now for flight
|
| Or the freedom to land
|
| We each take from the other
|
| Now struggle is all that we share
|
| It’s less than I am
|
| And more than I think I can bear
|
| We stand at the door
|
| Like the holy make war
|
| Both of us sure we are right
|
| We move through it unseen
|
| For the darkness between us
|
| But I mean to leave on the light
|
| But I mean to leave on the light |