We Are for Making Meaning

Verse 1 I wake up with a phrase I didn’t plan on keeping, Stuck like smoke along my sleeve, The day comes in through half‑closed curtains, Asks me what I believe. I carry thoughts like loose change in my pocket, Some I spend, some I lose, Some just clink when I’m walking With no clear use. Chorus Maybe we’re like bees in a field we didn’t choose, Working something out of what we find, Making honey out of passing hours, Leaving gold behind. I don’t know who gets to taste it, Or how long it’s gonna keep, But I keep building little answers Out of what I reap. Verse 2 I’ve watched a frame turn air into a picture, Nothing changed but how I stood, Same old sky, different question, Suddenly misunderstood. I’ve taken words from overheard conversations, Let them settle where they land, Sometimes they feel like borrowed language, Sometimes like my own hands. Chorus Maybe we’re like bees in borrowed weather, Flying routes we can’t explain, Gathering the small and scattered things That don’t go to waste. I don’t claim to see the pattern, I just follow what I need, Turning moments into something sweet That helps me breathe. Bridge The hive hums even when I’m quiet, Something working underneath, I don’t always know the reason I just feel the need. And maybe meaning isn’t hidden, Maybe it’s made this way— Slow accumulation, Day by day. Final Chorus So I’ll keep moving through the hours With whatever truth I find, Like a bee that doesn’t question Why it leaves a mark behind. If this life is just a passing bloom That opens, then it’s gone, Let me leave a little honey here To show I’d been along.