[Intro] Ash on the windowsill Your name still on my tongue I count the quiet hours And ask what I have done [Verse 1] The roof gave way at supper, the fields went brown by June My friends came bearing answers underneath a hard white moon They weigh my grief like grain and say I must have earned the loss But they never stood beside me when the storm took what it cost I scrape the dust from my sleeve; I keep my questions plain If You are there beyond the clouds, then hear me through the rain [Chorus] I’m spinning in the silence, still calling out Your name With empty hands and aching bones, I’m standing in the flame I don’t know why the ground gave way or where the road runs through But even when I cannot hear, I’m turning back to You [Verse 2] The night has no explanation, the morning brings no sign I won’t pretend the hurt is small or dress it up as fine My mouth can hold a bitter truth and still refuse to curse I bring the broken pieces, not a polished little verse The questions circle slowly; they don’t loosen their hold Yet breath by breath I wait here, stubborn in the cold [Chorus] I’m spinning in the silence, still calling out Your name With empty hands and aching bones, I’m standing in the flame I don’t know why the ground gave way or where the road runs through But even when I cannot hear, I’m turning back to You [Bridge] You answer from the whirlwind, not with reasons I can keep You set the sea its boundary; You wake the dawn from sleep I am small beneath the vastness, still my grief is fully known So I lay down my demand to make the mystery my own [Final Chorus] I was spinning in the silence, still calling out Your name With empty hands and aching bones, I stood within the flame I may not know the reason, I may not see it through But even when I cannot hear, I’m turning back to You [Outro] Ash on the windowsill A breath, a prayer, a dawn No answer for the hurting— Still, I am holding on
