A Chord in Brunswick

They say everything is meaningless no matter how much we see,
No matter how much we hear,
We are never satisfied
We are never content with what we have
Well this is our time.
Lets prove them wrong.
The night before was held together by comfort, underneath a sky;
A paralyzed skyline.
Her bed was white.
The kind of white that blended perfectly into walls abstractly lit by the moon.
I remember when only the lack of time seperated chances;
Chances above all.
But what’s chance if it was never there at all?
But what’s chance if she was never there at all?
I’m tired of feeling when will this moment arrive.
Is it fair to say what’s lost is gained?
I dont know but it’s ok, I’m ok.
I dont regret what I’ve done.
This Chord
Won’t ring
I will not ring.
They say pain is a signal of growth,
You grew, you grew.
Is it fair to say what’s lost is gained?
The power of one moment can chance life forever.
As I witnessed that night a situation that felt so alive.
Could we hold our hands up high?
Would we hold them to the sky?
This is our time.