braced · fractured · turbulent
The earth splits and the sky darkens in the same breath — bodies pulled from rubble while storms gather offshore, and somewhere between the wreckage and the waiting, a single door opens that was locked for centuries.
Ground Gives, Door Opens
Verse 1
We wake to the sound of something shifting below,
the kind of tremor that moves through stone and bone alike.
Hands in the rubble, hands on the rope,
we pull toward each other across the fault and the spike.
Somewhere a border holds a hundred names,
somewhere a shoreline watches the clouds arrange themselves like fists.
We have been braced so long we forgot
what it felt like before the waiting, before all of this.
Chorus
Ground gives, door opens —
the same hour, the same sun.
One wall falls to ruin,
one wall comes undone.
We carry what we can across the broken even ground,
gone looking for the living in the places they went down.
Ground gives, door opens —
we were always more than one.
Bridge
And there — a threshold no one could cross before,
a name added to a line of names.
Small and enormous, the unlocking of a door
while somewhere else the sea is climbing, and nothing is the same.
We hold the fractured and the forward in one hand,
the hurricane and the heirloom, the wound and the plan.
Outro
Ground gives.
Door opens.
We are still here.
We are still here.
Instrumental Outro
How did it make you feel?
A new song arrives tomorrow.
Hear tomorrow's song →