Brittle Hearts [SSC8, USA]

[Verse 1] You’re leaning in close to the silver and glass Watching the years and the silhouettes pass. You’re tracing a line that you wish wasn't there A glare in the lens or a weight in your stare. You think it’s a break or a pitch in the light Something to fix in the dead of the night. But you’re looking at maps of the miles you’ve run Not a mistake that needs to be undone. [Pre-Chorus] Because there isn’t a soul who stands in that room Who doesn't see signs or hints of the gloom. We’re all just a collection of jagged-edged parts Hiding the cracks in our brittle, brittle, poor hearts. Yeah our brittle hearts.... [Chorus] And oh, it’s the bend in the wood that makes the sound sweet It’s the climb of the hill that puts strength in your feet. You’re looking for "perfect," a cold, quiet thing But "perfect" don't breathe and "perfect" don't sing. You see a deformity, I see a soul It’s the pieces you hate that are making you whole. [Verse 2] There’s a knot in the spirit, a dent in the pride A story you’re trying so hard just to hide. Maybe you’re loud when you should have been still Or you’re missing the flame or the stead-fast will. But look at the person across from you now With the very same worry engraved on their brow. If we all were the same, we’d be statues of stone And you’d be much faster, but much more alone. [Chorus] And oh, it’s the bend in the wood that makes the sound sweet It’s the climb of the hill that puts strength in my feet. I’ve been looking for "perfect," that cold, quiet thing But "perfect" don’t breathe and "perfect" don’t sing. I see a deformity, I see a soul It’s the pieces I hate that are making me whole. [Bridge] It’s the knot in the oak that holds it together It’s the scar on the wing that handles the weather. Don't pray for the mirror to change what it shows Pray for the vision to see how it grows. [Outro] I’m looking in the glass... and I see the line. I’m looking in the glass... and I see the crack in mine. I'm looking in the glass... and suddenly I'm feeling fine. It’s the map of the miles. It’s the weight of the years. It’s the salt in the smile. It’s the truth in the tears. I’m not fixed yet... and that’s the best part.