Tiny Sparks, Grand Journeys

Lyrics

[Intro] A little guitar, a little rain, a cup of coffee by the windowpane. The morning comes in without a sound, like heaven walking through a small-town crowd. [Verse 1] I used to chase the golden door, the thundercloud, the distant shore. I thought the truth would split the sky and write my name in fire up high. But now I find it in a spoon, in bread left cooling in the afternoon, in old men laughing at the bus, in all the dust that still belongs to us. [Pre-Chorus] And every year I lose a little speed, but gain a little room. The garden grows where I believed there had to be a moon. [Chorus] Oh, the small things shine, like pennies in a holy stream. A coat on a chair, a dog in a dream. The small things sing, though nobody wrote them down. God in the kettle, grace in the sound. And I am older now, but I don’t mind. I lost the road, and found the vine. Oh, the small things shine. [Verse 2] My hands have learned a slower way, to bless the work inside the day. The door that sticks, the shirt that mends, the phone call from forgotten friends. I’ve seen the proud men disappear, seen love grow quiet year by year. But still the sparrow lifts its head and steals a crumb beside the bread. [Pre-Chorus] And every scar that I have worn has softened into skin. I used to pray to be reborn, now I just let life in. [Chorus] Oh, the small things shine, like lanterns in a kitchen room. A kiss on the cheek, a rose in bloom. The small things dance, with their ordinary wings. God in the hallway, peace in the strings. And I am older now, but I don’t mind. I lost the road, and found the vine. Oh, the small things shine. [Bridge] Let the young ones run like rivers, let them bargain with the sun. Let them think the race is holy, I was holy when I’d run. But the soul becomes a window when the wanting starts to cease. And the world walks in barefoot, carrying a bowl of peace. [Verse 3] So here’s to every little light, the porch, the plate, the moth at night. The cracked blue cup, the neighbor’s tune, the silver coin of a rising moon. I don’t need angels in the air, I found them sleeping everywhere. In grocery lines and wedding rings, in broken clocks and humble things. [Final Chorus] Oh, the small things shine, like water on a Sunday stone. A hand in a hand, the walk back home. The small things sing, and they ask for no reply. God in the silence, bread in the sky. And I am older now, but I feel kind. I lost the road, and found the vine. Oh, the small things shine. [Outro] A little guitar, a little rain, a cup of coffee by the windowpane. The world grows wide when the heart grows still, and the small things shine, as they always will.