You are the chorus, the refrain sung on high.
You are the crash of the cymbals, mighty and echoing.
You are the drop of the beat after the pause, the build up and the fall.
But I am the crowd, sweating and breathing as one.
I am the song; on their lips, in their heads, and written on their hearts.
You may be my symphony,
but I the composer.
Sep 3, 2014
Sep 3, 2014 at 7:21 AM UTC
You are the chorus, the refrain sung on high.
You are the crash of the cymbals, mighty and echoing.
You are the drop of the beat after the pause, the build up and the fall.
But I am the crowd, sweating and breathing as one.
I am the song; on their lips, in their heads, and written on their hearts.
You may be my symphony,
but I the composer.
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