[Verse 1 (Bright, hopeful, like a childhood memory)]
Hi, Little Girl,
this is our song,
this is our tree,
this is our promise,
this is our friendship.
Running barefoot through the grass,
laughing under golden skies,
whispering secrets in the dark,
swearing never to say goodbye.
[Chorus (A touch of bittersweet nostalgia, something feels off)]
March sixteenth, two thousand nineteen,
a date carved into my mind.
But you left me a melody,
to keep your voice alive.
So I sing for the both of us,
so I breathe when you cannot,
so I stand when you fell down,
so I live for the both of us.
[Verse 2 (Realization creeps in, something was lost, the weight builds)]
I still hear you in the wind,
laughing at my silly fears.
Telling me, “Don't do it,
it's too dangerous, my dear.”
And I ask you in the silence,
"Why'd you always have those plasters?"
Now I think I know the answer—
to fix the world, to heal the fractures.
[Chorus (Stronger, heavier, more painful, like trying to hold on to memories slipping away)]
March sixteenth, two thousand nineteen,
the day the sky lost its light.
But you left me a melody,
to keep your voice alive.
So I sing for the both of us,
so I breathe when you cannot,
so I stand when you fell down,
so I live for the both of us.
[Bridge (Suddenly quiet, stripped down, deep sadness sets in)]
You said if I missed you,
I should look at our tree.
So I sit beneath the branches,
and let you sing through me.
[Outro (Slow, deep, serious, the final moment of truth and apology)]
Hi, Little Girl,
this is our song,
this is our tree,
this is our promise.
You may be gone,
but I'll hold on,
'cause this is our song.
(Pause, then almost whispered, broken voice—)
"I'm sorry."
