There’s treetops banging on the window

You started dancing to the rhythm

And I’m watching you, moving how you move

With closed eyes just feeling the moonlight

Collect on your skin, its pooling like water

Till’ you start to float and we’ll dissolve into nothing again

We’re peacefully nothing again

Singing Ooo,
take what you need love,

I only believe in you

Cause if its all for nothing, then this love is everything

While she’s dancing I’m holding my breath,

Hoping if I stop breathing this moment won’t pass,

But my lungs start to burn and the brevity all at once comes crashing back

Feels like Ooo,

take what you need love,

I only believe in you

Cause if its all for nothing, then this love is everything

While I breath out it feels like floating away

Into the sunset bleeding on the horizon

And we’re stuck in time, soaking it in

Singing Ooo,
take what you need love,

I only believe in you

Cause if its all for nothing, then this love is everything

This song is all about those moments where everything just clicks into place, those little pockets of magic we find in the everyday. It's about how, even when life feels overwhelming or uncertain, we can choose to see the beauty that surrounds us. It's really a testament to finding purpose and joy in the seemingly small things.

The image of 'treetops banging on the window' and then seeing someone 'dancing to the rhythm' – it’s about that sudden, unexpected beauty in the mundane. It’s not a grand, staged event. It’s just the wind, the trees, and someone finding pure, uninhibited joy. And getting to see that, that’s where the perfection lies. It’s a tiny, quiet miracle unfolding.

The chorus, 'Cause if it’s all for nothing, then this love is everything,' is the core thesis. If the universe doesn't have a built-in purpose for me, then the purpose becomes to find and cherish these moments of connection, of bliss, of beauty, no matter how small or transient. My 'everything' is found in those tiny perfections: the way the moonlight pools, the shared silence, the simple act of breathing in a moment.

The line about holding my breath, 'hoping if I stop breathing this moment won’t pass,' is that desperate longing to freeze time. But then 'my lungs start to burn and the brevity all at once comes crashing back.' It’s the sharp reminder that these moments are fleeting. That very impermanence is what makes them so precious.

So, 'Nothing/Everything' is my testament to finding meaning in the small, everyday wonders in a world that otherwise gives us no inherent meaning at all."