Between The Lines

Up in the attic where the dust settled deep

I found a cardboard box of secrets he'd keep

Beneath the winter coats and tax forms of old A blue notebook

with a spine cracked and cold Written in his hurried,

left-handed slant

All the things he wanted but believed he just can't

Page three was a blueprint for a backyard swing

Page ten was a poem about a bird on the wing

So many grand designs to make a million or two

But his smallest dream was the one he never got to do (mmmmm) I

found you between the lines

Underneath the ink and the passing of time

I don't need the fortune,

I don't need the gold Just this little promise that you used

to hold Yeah, I found you

between the lines

So I bought the pine wood and the heavy-duty rope

And spent my weekend building on a little bit of hope Not

a high-rise office or a tech design

Just a simple wooden bench beneath the white pine

I sat on the swing and felt the afternoon breeze And finally

understood your quiet victories

I found you between the lines

Underneath the ink and the passing of time

I don't need the fortune,

I don't need the gold Just this little promise that you used

to hold Yeah, I found you

between the lines

I hear you laughing in the creak of the wood

(hahaha) I did what you couldn't,

but wish you would

Just a blue notebook in my hand

Now I finally understand...