If you believe that we are fighting breath or fighting to breath
If you believe that we are newborn children waiting to see.
This song is sung with throat and breath and teeth and tongue.
This song is sung.
We can find it in our fights and we see it in our sights, we still feel this now.
We grew it in our bones digging through our broken homes, we still feel this now.
In our aches and in our pains it is coursing through our veins, we still feel this now.
If you believe that we are fighting breath or fighting to breath.
If you believe that we are sleeping still while dreaming of dreams of the night
when we will finally believe our eyes and walk down to raze the fences that divide our towns.
Another page in the big black book of ghosts
that leaves an image in the dirt so we will know
this song is sung with water trapped inside our lungs.
This song is sung.
We spent years in the back rooms told that it would be done soon.
It will take years to unlearn what was printed with slow burn.
We are tracing the maps of our scars.
Clutching to the pieces that have made it this far.
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