You make everything feel half-alive,
You make everything long for the light.
You make everything feel half-alright,
In me.

When death comes a’knocking on doors,
When my heart knows its been here before.
In the house where the windows are boarded up with fear.
When the moonlight is burning my eyes,
And the only way out is too bright,
When the worthiness of living life is far from dear.

You make all of me feel half-alright,
Enough to see hope through the night.
That the bitterness leaves with the sunlight’s growing near.

You make everything feel half-alive,
You make everything long for the light.
You make everything feel half-alright,
In me.

How do I walk into freedom with my limbs asleep?
How do I move through the finite, to eternal things?
How does my heart long for home that I’ve never seen?
How do I see past the veil of this body?