Lyric

There's a dent in the kettle

That still holds the steam

A cracked little mirror

Still knows what I mean

The clock on the shelf

Skips, then finds its place

And my hands, when they shake

Still try to make grace

I used to call it ruined

If it came back changed

Now I hear the soft reply

In every broken thing

Some things still murmur

Some things still speak

Bent, but not silent

Sore, but not weak

Some things still murmur

And I do too

Imperfect and honest

Still getting through

The chair by the window

Has one leg too short

It leans like it's listening

To the whole back porch

And I wore my own weather

In every bad year

But the words kept arriving

When I leaned near

Not fixed, not finished

Just present and true

A little misfitted

Still saying, "I do"

Some things still murmur

Some things still speak

Bent, but not silent

Sore, but not weak

Some things still murmur

And I do too

Imperfect and honest

Still getting through

So leave the seam showing

Leave the old scar clean

A life doesn't need

To be made seamless

If I answer in fragments

If I limp, if I bend

I am not less whole

For the shape I'm in

Some things still murmur

Some things still speak

Bent, but not silent

Sore, but not weak

Some things still murmur

And I do too

Imperfect and honest

Still getting through