Though not the promised land,
There was a single lowered branch.
What was flawless canvas-white,
What was kindness in our eyes
Is now a blemished masterpiece,
But let's cut right to the chase,
To when the best of us was on display,
Before we tipped the scale from confidence to doubt.
I would hold you now, if only i knew how.
If the right words exist,
And let the tension make us new.
I don't know if it's virtue,
I don't know if it's just dumb luck.
Would it matter if it was?
What if we welcomed change in
"The doors will open wide for you."
It was said just like it was the truth,
If we walk right through... More from Sleeping At Last