Great Grief Lyrics
Oh God, how great is grief that grants the means to be inspired.
Breathing life again to empathy that I thought had expired.
But if my malaise capitulates the lingering emphatic ache, could I succumb to joy again?
Or at least find some relief in familiar pain?
Either way, if I’m to raise my voice again I should celebrate.
And take some comfort in knowing that the slow introspection that I felt in isolation
Has left me with an elucidated sense of self.
And I know that it may not be enough to satiate the phantom ache that I carry in my timbre;
But it softly shakes the taut embrace that doubt had once maintained.
May flora bloom from every wound that I’ve volunteered to display.
After all, don’t I deserve to be happy too?
There’s a bouquet for every misery.
An embellishment to all my weaknesses.
I’m jubilant in my undoing; you say it should hurt but I don’t feel it.
So I propose that if I’m able to articulate my woes in communion with an assembly who can relate,
Is my pain not a price I should be willing to pay?
What is the worth of a misery if not experienced in jovial company?
There is catharsis to be found in the comfort afforded by our generous despair.
So celebrate with me.
There’s a bouquet for every misery.
An embellishment for all our weaknesses.
Be jubilant in our undoing; does it really hurt if you don’t feel it now?
