_____
That we can reinvent everything
_____
There's no recipe to endure trials
_____
To go back up the rivers when tragedies rain down
_____
To absorb the dramas
_____
To row across the seas when horror turns on the charm
_____
When you didn't have one either
_____
You fought as best you could
_____
When hell shakes your hand
_____
Giving up's human, the future's far away
_____
But you started to sing
_____
Like at every fall, every time, it forced itself on you
_____
To sing, like a startled child
_____
To sing to accept, express, resist, move forward, progress, exist
_____
To sing like resilience, a deliverance
_____
And in the dark, behind the fog
_____
I hear that piano sing
_____
That we can reinvent everything
_____
Do you get it's your thing?
_____
That music comes back to pick you up after every fall
_____
At what point do you know it's your compass?
_____
When life punishes you, music consoles you
_____
At what point did that piano sing?
_____
Its chords haunted you, pampered your health
_____
At what point is it your breath?
_____
And at what point do we make it a song?
_____
If I feel like a child
_____
I've already had several lives
_____
Singing what they took from me
_____
I too have known a kind of fog
_____
And I heard that piano in the distance
_____
And I too, without really planning it
_____
My voice naturally joined it
_____
We don't have the same story at all
_____
But in the end a few common points
_____
Like a whiff of oratorical force, I write, you sing
_____
The fog's far away now
_____
And in the dark, behind the fog
_____
I hear that piano sing
_____
That we can reinvent everything
_____
To find the courage