What if
I could paint your smile
across the cold, cold sky?
Cold sky, cold sky —
and teach the clouds not to cry.
What if
your restless eyes grew wings,
grew wings, grew wings —
and I followed through the flood of shadows,
through the shadows, through the shadows.
What if
your breathing turned to song,
to song, to song —
and we planted light in the weary ground,
light in the ground, light in the ground.
What if time stood still,
stood still, stood still —
just long enough for hope
to drink the rain,
to drink the rain.
What if
the gray in your eyes
began to crack,
began to crack —
What if, what if
love came back?
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