Yousay there’s a reason,
Asimple change of season,
Foreverything that happens in our lives.
Nosuch thing as simple chance,
It’sall determined in advance
Andwe can see the truth if hope survives.
ButI find it hard to understand
Thatwe’re just playing out our hand,
Andthere’s no way for us to win the fight.
So,I just keep it in my head,
Themillion things you might have said.
Youmay be wrong, but then, maybe you’re right.
Youknow I’ve been a player,
Ayes-man and naysayer,
Witnessedevery kindness known to man.
Knownthe hurt of leaving,
Feltthe pain of grieving.
Hardto think that it’s all in His plan.
Butyou keep saying you believe
Thateverything is pre-conceived,
Thestory written down in black and white.
Youbelieve it’s all foretold, but
Ikeep longing for control.
Youmay be wrong, but then, maybe you’re right.
Ifthere are choices to be made,
Youknow I’ll face them unafraid.
Iwon’t hesitate to stand and fight.
Thosewords that echo in my ear
Willhelp to chase away the fear,
Knowingthat you may be wrong,
Butthen,
Maybeyou’re right.