Live Again was not written in a studio moment or a late-night burst of inspiration.
It was born in a hospital — in the quiet weight of an everyday conversation.
It wasn’t dramatic or inspirational on the surface. It was just honest. A reminder that behind every diagnosis is a person still thinking, wanting, and pushing forward in ways that aren’t always visible.
The lyrics speak to confinement and freedom, to days that feel stolen and nights that stretch endlessly. But at its core, this song is a declaration:
I am more than what is happening to my body.
Working in a hospital means seeing how easily life can become defined by limitations, schedules, and treatments. Necessary things — but not the whole picture. What often gets overlooked is everything that continues to exist alongside illness: character, memory, humor, and the drive to keep going.
Live Again sits in that space.
The song doesn’t avoid frustration or fatigue, but it doesn’t linger in them either. It’s about reclaiming agency when circumstances narrow your options. About choosing to stay present, even when the future feels uncertain.
This song is for anyone facing serious illness, and for those close to them. Not as a promise that everything will be fine, but as recognition that wanting to live fully — even in small ways — still matters.
Live Again isn’t about denial.
It’s about refusing to be reduced.
This is not a goodbye song.
It is a promise.
Not tonight.
Not goodbye.