LYRIC FOR SALE

By Theresa Astrea

Never Mind

**Verse 1**

You seemed different for a little while,

a different face,
a different smile.

I almost thought
you might rewrite

a story I've seen
a thousand nights.

You watched me close.

You learned my ways.

You studied shadows
I rarely gave.

For a moment
I thought you might

keep looking deeper
past first light.

Then something shifted,
subtle, slight.

Wonder faded
out of sight.

You confused arrival
with discovery,

and called the ending
victory.

**Pre-Chorus**

The silver hook
beneath the tide,

still reaching for
what it can't keep alive.

You set the pace,
then changed your mind.

Never mind.

**Chorus**

Truth has a tone
you cannot hide.

Vacancy stumbles
where depth resides.

Impulse is easy.

Mastery is divine.

You call it nature.

I call it blind.

Never mind.

**Verse 2**

The mystery never left.

That's the strange part.

The stars stayed fixed.

The sky stayed dark.

The pages waited
where they had been.

You simply stopped
reading them.

The story lingered.

The questions too.

There were still worlds
inside the room.

But certainty
can dull the eye,

and turn a universe
into wallpaper design.

You thought the map
was fully drawn.

You missed the places
beyond the dawn.

**Pre-Chorus**

You point below.

I point above.

You speak of wanting.

I speak of love.

Not the feeling.

The choice behind.

The thing that stays
when sparks decline.

**Chorus**

Truth has a tone
you cannot hide.

Vacancy stumbles
where depth resides.

Impulse is easy.

Mastery is divine.

You call it nature.

I call it blind.

Never mind.

**Bridge**

Maybe that's why
I knew the rhyme.

Maybe I've walked
this road through time.

Different covers.

Different names.

The same old ending
wearing new paint.

You wanted wonder.

Not the work.

The spark.

Not what it serves.

The question.

Not the years required

to tend the flame
beyond desire.

You found a doorway.

Stepped inside.

Then acted like
there was nothing left to find.

**Final Chorus**

Truth has a tone
you cannot hide.

Vacancy stumbles
where depth resides.

Impulse is easy.

Mastery is divine.

A man is measured
by what survives.

By what he tends.

By what he finds.

You call it nature.

I call it blind.

Never mind.