Things with a story

I’ve been the girl with a map in her pocket

Reading the room before reading the signs

Learned how to listen for things left unspoken

Learned how to live in between all the lines

Six years in boots with my eyes on the distance

Finding the signal buried in noise

Now I do the same with hearts and intentions

Trying to figure out truth from the choice

I’ve loved like a wildfire, married like weather

Left when the leaving was all I could do

Got knocked to the ground, got back up meaner

But somehow came back a little more true

I’m still here, still curious

Still asking why, still raising hell

I’ve been lost, I’ve been furious

I’ve known heaven, I’ve known damn well

What it feels like when your whole world changes

And you’re standing where the old one fell

I collect things with a story

Guess I’m one of those things myself

There’s a little blue house down in Georgia

Full of old clocks and scars in the walls

Keys with no doors and maps with no answers

Proof that I’ve always been drawn to it all

There’s a Frenchie asleep like she pays the mortgage

A fire outside when the night gets cold

Golf balls scattered all over the backyard

And furniture somebody loved long ago

I like things that have survived their owners

Things with scratches you don’t sand away

Maybe that’s why I keep all my bruises

Not like a shrine, just proof of the days

I’m still here, still curious

Still asking why, still raising hell

I’ve been lost, I’ve been furious

I’ve known heaven, I’ve known damn well

What it feels like when your whole world changes

And you’re standing where the old one fell

I collect things with a story

Guess I’m one of those things myself

I’ve sat beside people I couldn’t rescue

Held hands when there was nothing to fix

Filed down the edges of one tired lifetime

And learned love can look as small as this

Then the firehouse filled up with stories

Everybody had one they needed to tell

About a man who left fingerprints everywhere

Without ever knowing how far they fell

And grief is a bastard, it sneaks through the doorway

Moves all your furniture around in your head

You laugh at a memory, then cry in the kitchen

Still learning the difference between gone and dead

I’ve loved people who made me question myself

Stayed too long trying to understand

Because if I could just find the reason behind it

Maybe the hurt would finally make sense in my hands

But some puzzles don’t need solving

Some doors deserve to stay shut

Sometimes understanding somebody

Doesn’t mean you have to keep putting up with their shit

So I’m still here, still curious

But I’m learning when to let things be

Not every mystery deserves me

Not everybody gets a key

I’ve spent my whole life reading signals

Now I’m finally listening to me

I collect things with a story

But I don’t have to keep everything

I’ve been broke with expensive taste

Been late to things that mattered most

Made plans at four in the morning

Then chased another rabbit hole

I can turn a garage into a kingdom

Make twenty dollars out of