Woodcarver

[INTRO]

Between sawdust and whispered prayers,
An old workshop holds a beating heart.
Every cut upon the wood is made with love,
Every life begins within the woodcarver's hands.

[VERSE 1]

In this workshop... works the woodcarver...
Who carves little wooden dolls with love.
This workshop... where magic has arrived...
And with a single breath, he gave the little dolls life.

Every face is different, every voice has worth.
The old creator has no favorites.
They are all born from silence, all born from song,
Each one carrying the very same heart.

[CHORUS]

When they start to walk, a smile lights up his face.
Everything is so magical, everything so beautiful.
When they begin to wander, he softly laughs.
Everything is so magical, everything so wonderful.

The walls hum gently, the wind dances across the floor.
The whole workshop lives within a single song.

[VERSE 2]

But every light will someday meet a shadow.
Every peace will one day find its end.
In just one moment of absence,
Something changed.

But when he turned his back, something went wrong with his creations.
When he returned, one little doll lay broken.
He looked at the others and quietly asked,

"My children... who did this?"

"Father... please, listen to us.
That one is made from different wood."

The old man lowered his head,
Unable to understand what he had heard.

[BRIDGE]

But that... makes no sense...

He was my child too.

If my own hands carved each one of you,
If my own breath gave life to all of you,
How can one child stop being a child
Just because they're different from the rest?

[FINAL CHORUS]

In this workshop... works the woodcarver...
Who carves little wooden dolls with love.
This workshop... where magic has arrived...
And with a single breath, he gave the little dolls life.

When they start to walk, a smile lights up his face.
Everything is so magical, everything so beautiful.
When they begin to wander, he softly laughs.
Everything is so magical, everything so wonderful.

And as long as there is wood,
Hope, and a loving heart,
The old man will keep creating children...
Even in a world that has learned to divide them.