we might swim the black slick
that reeks like death,
that reeks like sick,
and we might be swallowed
by our devil darkness,
or all things may be consumed,
in time and in time and in time.

but

while there is the hint of light
somewhere beneath the rotten,
some sliver of dim hope –
we know that goodness remains
in the small places of the world
pushing us to move forward;

and should it be snuffed out,
as the storm threatens starless night f’rever,
and though our voices be crack’d,
til’ it feels that our song has been lost,
we will sing the bright dawn back,
for you i would…
for me you would…
let us raise the sun afire again,
with our flaming bare hands,
til’ the choir’s voices lift once more,

and the choir’s voices will lift once more.