We The Kingdom - Dancing On The Waves Lyrics

Video

Dancing On The Waves (Live) - We The Kingdom

Meaning & Inspiration

I’m still shaking the dust off my boots. My clothes smell like the cheap gin and stale regrets of a dozen different cities, and honestly, the silence here is louder than the chaos I left behind. When I heard We The Kingdom sing, "I’m reaching out, I’ll chase you down," I didn’t feel like clapping. I felt like flinching.

Because when you’ve been on the run, the idea of being chased feels like a threat until it doesn't. You expect a belt, or a locked door, or a cold shoulder. You expect the consequences you’ve been earning for years to finally catch up and pin you to the floor. But this song? It’s not about an audit of my failures. It’s about a pursuit that doesn't care how many miles I put between me and the truth.

It brings me back to that parable about the shepherd who doesn't wait for the sheep to get its act together, find the trail, and walk back with its head held high. He goes into the dark. He goes into the places that are dangerous. He finds the thing that's lost, and he doesn't bring it home by dragging it; he brings it home because he’s already invested everything in the fact that it exists.

"I dare you to believe how much I love you now." That’s the line that hits me like a brick.

It’s a taunt, really. A holy, aggravating taunt. I’ve spent so long staring at my own hands, seeing the filth, deciding that I’m beyond repair, that I’ve practically memorized my own worthlessness. And then there’s this melody, suggesting that my past—which feels like a mountain I have to climb—is actually just dead and gone. It’s like being told you’re clean while your fingernails are still caked with mud. It makes me want to argue. It makes me want to ask, Do you know what I did?

But the lyrics don't answer that. They don't even acknowledge the question. They just keep talking about walking on water and dancing on waves. It’s ridiculous imagery. Peter tried walking on the water, and he did it for all of three seconds before he started sinking because he looked at the wind. I’m still looking at the wind. I’m still looking at the storm I created.

I don't know how to dance. I barely know how to stand still. But there’s something about the way they sing it—raw, a little unhinged—that makes me think maybe the "masterpiece" they’re talking about isn’t the clean version of me I’m trying to curate. Maybe the masterpiece is the version that’s still wet, shivering, and covered in saltwater, finally realizing the chasing has stopped because the catching has started.

I’m not sure I believe it yet. But for the first time in a long time, I’m not running either. I'm just sitting here, breathing, letting the smoke clear out of my lungs, waiting to see if the ground under my feet is actually going to hold.