Hearts and harps are always sadder when their strings are not plucked   Pulled apart from almost every chord they hold here   And will I wait for you through times of trouble and darker forest still?   Though I will carry you, will the weight be too much?      What will my heart appear to be after all this is done?      Hearts and harps are always broken when their strings are pulled too hard   Fragile frames are often known to break a thousand times again   And will I wait for you through times of trouble and darker forest still?   Though I will carry you, will the weight be too much?   And if I dream of you, will the sleep be too much?