Verse 1

We wrote it down at the edge of sleep

Left it folded on the kitchen table

A thing too real to speak

Too possible to label

We circle it like it might disappear

Or worse — like it might ask something of us

The weight of a good idea

Sitting in the room between us

Chorus

We are the almost-started

The thought that found its shape

But stayed behind the wanting

Not lost — just in the way

The draft we never opened

The move we didn't make

Not from fear exactly

From the size of what's at stake

Verse 2

We know the cost of waiting

How the edges start to blur

How a plan becomes a memory

Before it can occur

We've watched the window season

From amber into grey

Still holding what we carried

Still not throwing it away

Bridge

Maybe it's not hesitation

Maybe it's the longest breath

Before the thing we're building

Steps out of our heads

Maybe weight means it's still living

Still intact, still true

We haven't lost the idea

We're just getting used to

Outro

We'll open it

We'll open it

Someday — not yet

But soon

Instrumental Outro

How did it make you feel?

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