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Two rivers run across a field of green,
Until a stony ridge comes in between.
The love we had still matters, that I know,
But love can't choose the way our futures grow.
I used to think our love was like a key
That opens every door for you and me.
But some doors open to a world apart—
The key can fit but still won't fit the heart.
We never dropped the rhythm or the beat,
But every dancer follows their own feet.
Some songs are written to be sung by two,
But every voice must find its own way through.
Two rivers run across a field of green,
Until a stony ridge comes in between.
I learned that love is not the binding force,
When every dream requires a separate course.
Two rivers run across a field of green,
Until a stony ridge comes in between.
The love we had still matters, that I know,
But love can't choose the way our futures grow.
We never dropped the rhythm or the beat,
But every dancer follows their own feet.
Some songs are written to be sung by two,
But every voice must find its own way through.
Two rivers run across a field of green,
Until a stony ridge comes in between.
I learned that love is not the binding force,
When every dream requires a separate course.
Two rivers run across a field of green,
Until a stony ridge comes in between.
The love we had still matters, that I know,
But love can't choose the way our futures grow.
