Lyrics

Desperation has its own fire,
urgent, demanding flame.
Tearing the bandage open
before the wound remembers its name.
“I need this pain gone, now,” you cry,
but force just feeds the ache inside.

Readiness moves differently—
softer, slower, free.
It’s the breath that whispers gently,
“it’s safe to wait, it’s safe to see.”
Healing isn’t a race to win,
it’s a rhythm only you can feel within.

When you’re desperate, you push too hard,
you fight the tide, you tear apart.
But when you’re ready, you start to hear
the quiet truth that draws you near.
A hand unclenches, a heart lets go,
and time begins to move just so.

Readiness moves differently—
softer, slower, free.
It’s the breath that whispers gently,
“it’s safe to wait, it’s safe to see.”
Healing isn’t a race to win,
it’s a rhythm only you can feel within.

The body knows its timing true,
it’s been waiting, patient, inside of you.
Sometimes it says, “not today.”
And that’s okay—
that’s healing too.

Readiness moves differently—
like a song beneath the skin.
The moment you stop rushing in,
the real movement begins.
Healing’s not a race to win—
it’s a rhythm only you can feel within.