[Verse 1]
She built her altar in the quietest room of the house,
Where lineage pressed through the floorboards and memory turned to grout,
Two voices pulled inside her like a tide against a door —
The one who needed rootedness, the one who wanted more,
She learned to carry discipline the way old houses carry weight,
Stone-patient, bone-serious, learning early not to wait.

[PreChorus]
But every harvest has its season, every cellar has its yield,
What she pressed into the keeping jar is ready to be revealed.

[Chorus]
Gigi, you are the full moon over a field that's finally clear,
The equinox is turning and the balance tilts to here,
You held the contradictions like a harvest in your hands,
Gigi, now the day and night are equal — you can stand.

[Verse 2]
She spoke in colors nobody had the patience left to name,
Said everything precisely but it landed wrong just the same,
So she stopped mid-sentence, swallowed whole what she had meant to say,
Pressed her words like flowers into pages, put the pages away,
But a mind that quick doesn't stay folded — it finds the light through seams,
She learned to write in the margins of her own unfinished dreams.

[PreChorus]
The voice they didn't listen to is still the truest one she owns,
Every word she swallowed then is building something in her bones.

[Chorus]
Gigi, there's a depth in you that surfaces chose to ignore,
The equinox is here and it is leveling the score,
The quiet fire you banked behind the door that no one tried —
Gigi, every equal day needs equal dark inside.

[Verse 3]
She loved the way a match loves striking — immediate and whole,
Stepped toward connection first before she'd catalogued the toll,
Kept the porch light burning for the people she called hers,
Dreamed of a better world in all the spaces between words,
And when the harvest tables broke beneath the weight she grew,
She didn't stop believing — she just chose more carefully who.

[PreChorus]
The equinox asks nothing but the truth of what you've grown,
Not what you gave away to others — what you kept to call your own.

[Chorus]
Gigi, lay the season's ledger open, let the numbers breathe,
Every root you tended in the dark is breaking through the sheath,
The day belongs to you as much as anyone you've served —
Gigi, this is where the evening and the morning curve.

[Bridge]
She carried the old house inside her wherever the road ran long,
Made a foundation out of what she could not leave behind,
Now the days grow equal and the harvest asks to come along —
All that she preserved is nourishment, not debt, she'll find.

[Outro]
The equinox arrives — the scales hold still,
Gigi, all you tended now is yours to fill.