[Verse]
My ink pen bleeds for you, oh the stories it will tell,
For the farmer in his fields and the tolling of the bell.
It writes of love and heartache, and the bridges that we burn,
Of the lessons we all carry, and the roads we can't return.
[Verse 2]
It scribbles lines for her when she's working through her pain,
For the man who lost his way but found his soul in the rain.
It's a witness to the quiet, the loud, and in-between,
For every broken dreamer and the ones who've found their sheen.
[Chorus]
I sing for you, her, him, them, for we,
Every word from this pen sets a wandering spirit free.
It writes of hope, despair, and everything we've been,
This ink runs through us all, through the thick and the thin.
[Verse 3]
It scrawls for the soldier who fights to find a home,
For the child on the playground, and the lonely hearts that roam.
It etches down the sorrow of the sinner in the pew,
And the joy between two lovers, fresh and boldly true.
[Bridge]
Oh, my ink pen's not perfect, but it speaks what it can find,
In the echoes of the heart and the corridors of the mind.
Every line’s a thread of someone who has passed my way,
Their moments etched forever where my ink’s begun to fray.
[Verse 4]
This pen has been the witness to life's greatest gains and loss,
Seen the pages torn apart, and the nights beneath the cross.
It's not just mine to hold, it belongs to all who feel,
It bleeds the stories of this life, from the broken to the healed.