A mountain cannot be moved if it’s not worth the time,
And a song will not be sung unless it can rhyme.
We will fight for, and we will be fought for,
And we will always bare consequences for expecting more.
We will forget why we stand for ourselves,
The way we forget old books on our shelves.
We will imagine feelings and we will imagine sounds,
And we will find passion in them before we are laid beneath the ground.
We will watch good things fall downhill,
And we will empty glasses, while some we will fill.
The summer is guarded, with life and with love-
Feelings of winter’s cold discarded. And even when speaking of all the things gone wrong,
There is still nothing more beautiful to me than a love song.
And I know that things will work themselves out before long,
And I just hope that by then, you will not yet be gone.