[Verse 1] I keep a crooked glass in the drawer by the sink, One mirror leans where the other ones link. I turn it toward tomorrow; the pieces misalign, And make a small bright country out of every fault of mine. [Pre-Chorus] I tried to press the edges straight, To make the picture behave; But every bent seam held a door I didn’t know I’d saved. [Chorus] Crooked kaleidoscope, turn toward the day, My fractured little angles find a road their own way. Not a flaw to erase, not a shape to disguise— The future breaks in colors only I recognize. I’ll carry every off-center line, And let it make a world that’s mine. [Verse 2] There’s a nick across the silver, a thumbprint in the frame, I used to call them evidence that I should be ashamed. Now I watch the pieces gather, then scatter into new— No perfect glass could show me what this uneven one can do. [Bridge] I’m not waiting to be finished, I’m not asking to be fixed; I can meet the open morning With these edges in the mix. [Chorus] Crooked kaleidoscope, turn toward the day, My fractured little angles find a road their own way. Not a flaw to erase, not a shape to disguise— The future breaks in colors only I recognize. I’ll carry every off-center line, And let it make a world that’s mine. [Outro] Turn it once; the pattern changes. I’m still here—and so is the light.
