Where You Are

A vow of stubborn companionship runs through this song, sung to someone visibly worn down by the world. The opening lines notice what others miss: wounds the person keeps trying to clean alone, a smile worn like a mask. Rather than offering easy fixes, the singer simply says, "I see you," then asks a pointed question about whether going through life without a hand to hold is really worth it. The chorus returns again and again to the same plea — to be present through fire and storm, even when the singer's own heart is torn. There is a striking willingness here to follow someone through hell or heaven, through what the lyrics call unsurvivable odds, and to keep walking until life leaves the body. The song doesn't promise that pain disappears; it promises presence inside it. Mistakes are named but not dwelt on — they can't touch us now — and the future is something two people build together, worth whatever it costs. It reads as a picture of costly, incarnational love: showing up in the mess rather than waiting for it to clear.