The moments that define us, do we really have a choice? Those predisposed to happiness, do they really need a voice? And those who hanker after something we can never find. Are we just stumbling blind?

Half-term Tuesday, just gone half past four. The week feels nearly over, wasted, endless waiting for. You don't know when your dad is coming home.
And I miss my sister.

Within these four walls, there's an emptiness.
A silent sorrow that goes unaddressed. And if a stranger came they would never guess. But you, you could see right through it and you knew.

The moments that define us, the flipping of a coin. A life's repressed temptation, you swear it will be fine. You can't solve what we don't understand. But you just hold my hand.

As dusk was falling on that afternoon. You said you felt an aura, did I feel it too? A vision in the bracken, out of loyalty I swore I saw it too. But I never saw your angel, baby.

The moments that define us, can never be rehearsed. A half-term Tuesday promise can never be reversed. I got lost in girls and music. But you found Jesus in the broom.

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