Paper Castle

Verse 1

I kept my life a little out of reach,

a few more years, a little more achieved.

I’d get some rest when I had earned the right,

then move the line before I slept that night.

I lived beside the ocean all those years

and mostly watched the road from there to here.

The days went by, I knew what they were worth—

I just kept spending them on something first.

Pre-Chorus

Nothing fell apart in one loud moment.

Most of it looked good from the outside.

I was getting everything I worked for.

I didn’t think to ask me what it cost.

Chorus

I thought I was chasing dreams,

I was building a paper castle—

every floor another year

I thought I’d get back after.

Now I’m standing in the quiet

with the things I wanted most,

trying to remember when

the life I wanted got postponed.

I can see it from here.

I couldn’t see it then.

Or maybe I could see it—

and went back to work again.

Verse 2

I got so good at being someone needed,

I never asked who I was otherwise.

I knew how to keep going when exhausted,

how to make “I’m fine” sound like my voice.

There were meals I barely tasted,

whole seasons I could only name.

I’d look up and the trees were changing;

I’d look down and do the same.

Pre-Chorus

I thought knowing better meant I’d changed.

I could explain each turn that led me there.

Then morning came, and I’d repeat it,

a little more convinced I was aware.

Chorus

I thought I was chasing dreams,

I was building a paper castle—

every floor another year

I thought I’d get back after.

Now I’m standing in the quiet

with the things I wanted most,

trying to remember when

the life I wanted got postponed.

I can see it from here.

I couldn’t see it then.

Or maybe I could see it—

and went back to work again.

Bridge

The first time left a warning.

The next time, I knew the road.

I remember that small moment

when I could have just gone home.

A mistake made twice is a choice—

I wish it felt less true.

I learned the lesson years ago.

I just thought I had time to choose.

Verse 3

Now there’s daylight left some evenings

and I don’t know where to start.

I still reach for something useful

when the room gets still and dark.

There’s a grief without a funeral

for the years that simply went.

I was there for every one of them.

I don’t know where I’ve been.

Final Chorus

I thought I was chasing dreams,

I was building a paper castle.

I kept every small receipt

and lost track of what mattered.

Now the rooms are full of proof

that I did what I set out to do.

And I’m here, a little older,

with a life I kept meaning to get to.

I can see it from here.

That’s the hardest part to bear:

how much of what I wanted

was already there.

Outro

The ocean’s where I left it.

I go down and sit awhile.

For once I let the evening end

without making it worthwhile.