A speaker addresses someone who has drifted away, admitting they couldn't give what was needed and wishing they'd held their hand again. They remember small moments together, acknowledge wounds that won't heal, and struggle with letting go before finally urging the other person to spread their wings and find rebirth.
Chapters
Harbor where I watched you drift away. But you're only human after all. You're only human after all. I never put the blame on you. I never put the blame on you. Whatever you were looking for, I hope you found it. I couldn't give you what you needed. There's no way around it. If I could do it all again, I would hold on to your hand if I could do it all again. I would hold on to your hand. It's so obvious she ain't you. I fell in love with all the little things you do. Maybe I'm foolish, maybe I'm blind, wishing I could carry you through this and see what's behind. Before I get a sorrow, we must drink before the cup of blessings overflow. Gosh, I shouldn't put that weight on you. Some scars never heal. Some wounds can't be mended. Picking up the pieces, lift your worries to heaven. That burden's worth releasing. Letting go is the hardest. And watching them leave is the worst. But it's time, love, to spread your wings. This is the season of your rebirth. 'Cause you're only human after all. You're just a human after all.