Lyrics
Lyrics
WINTERFIELD – WE HELD ON
Corrected Lyrics Collection Lyrics and music by Paul Cardall
1. Lost
I’m a little bit lost,
I’m a little bit cold.
I’m a little bit tired
of being alone. And I don’t know where to go,
and I don’t know what to do.
I’m just a little bit lost
without you. I’m a little bit scared,
I’m a little bit weak.
I’m a little bit quiet
when I should speak. And I don’t know where to go,
and I don’t know what to do.
I’m just a little bit lost
without you.
2. Love Her Like A Forest
She moves like morning through the pines
Soft light finding its way inside
Some days quiet, some days wide
Full of echoes, full of life
You don’t rush what’s growing slow
You don’t ask the wild to show
Every step you learn to tread
Where the roots are deep instead Love her like a forest
Let her breathe, let her grow
Walk soft through the silence
Leave the good things alone
She’s not yours to capture
She’s not yours to explain
If you love her like a forest
She’ll stay There are seasons she won’t speak
Only wind and falling leaves
Times she’s burning full and bright
Times she’s holding all her light
You don’t fear the dark she brings
There’s a truth in quiet things
If you’re patient, if you wait
You’ll be met where shadows fade Love her like a forest
Let her breathe, let her grow
Walk soft through the silence
Leave the good things alone
She’s not yours to conquer
She’s not yours to name
If you love her like a forest
She’ll stay She can heal you, she can leave you
She will keep you in her heart
She remembers what you forget
She will know you, every part
3. I Need A Doctor
She asked me for the space,
said I should go away.
I packed a quiet bag
with words I couldn’t say.
I told her I was leaving,
I felt it break in two.
I still could say I loved her,
but didn’t know what was true. They say I need a doctor,
they say I’ve lost my way.
I don’t feel like I’m broken,
just trying how to stay.
I don’t need diagnosing,
I need a steady hand,
a little patient kindness,
someone who understands. I’m walking through the fire,
but I’m not running blind.
There’s love I’m still holding,
there’s peace I’m trying to find.
If letting go is mercy,
then let it come in time.
I’m learning how to carry
a heart that isn’t mine. Fifteen days of silence,
a house that isn’t home.
They tell me, “wait it out,”
but I don’t want alone.
I met someone who saw me,
but wouldn’t let me stay,
said, “go and fix what’s broken
before you walk away.” I’m walking through the fire,
but I’m not running blind.
There’s love I’m still holding,
there’s peace I’m trying to find.
If letting go is mercy,
then let it come in time.
I’m learning how to carry
a heart that isn’t mine. My daughters are the sunlight
that finds me in the waves,
the air inside my lungs
when I forget I’m saved.
I tried to hold the hurting
of everyone I knew,
but I was barely breathing
trying to pull them through. Woah… woah… woah…
Woah… woah… woah…
4. We Held On
We held on,
we held on.
Woah, woah. Leaning out the window,
summer on our skin.
You were laughing easy
like we’d just begin.
Every road was open,
every sky was wide.
Every breath between us
felt like we could fly. We were young,
we were wild in the light.
Never thought we’d have to
learn to fight. We held on through the doubt and the pain,
through the silence, through the rain.
Yeah, we held on when it bent, when it frayed,
through the ways we broke, through the love we made. Then the light shifted,
showed us what we missed,
all the quiet distance
in a moment’s drift.
Nights we turned away,
hearts too proud to speak,
trying just to win,
losing what we need. I’ve seen you in the dark,
I’ve seen the weight.
Still there’s something here
we couldn’t walk away from.
I’ve seen every scar,
every mistake.
Still there’s something here
we’re holding on to. We held on through the doubt and the pain,
through the silence, through the rain.
Yeah, we held on when it bent, when it frayed,
through the ways we broke, through the love we made. We held on,
we held on,
through the love we made. Not the start we imagined,
just the love we made.
5. Hands On My Head
Dad’s hands on my head,
said, “Stand tall, son.”
My first suit,
my shoes shined up.
Truth felt simple,
the world felt kind.
Twelve years old,
his faith was mine. That summer came,
my shirt was green.
A patch, a promise,
the sky was clean.
We rode east
to the city’s fire,
where noise and light
could lift or tire. Am I safe?
Will the ground stay still?
Will the boy who left
know his father still?
Life don’t fit
the shape I knew,
but his hands are steady,
they pull me through. He was me once,
young and proud.
Worked all night,
never said it loud.
Said, “Pain will teach
what words can’t find,”
and “quiet hearts
see God in time.” Am I safe?
Will the ground stay still?
Will the boy who left
find his father’s will?
Life don’t fit
the shape I knew,
but his voice is steady,
time pulls me through. When the dark says, “Stand,”
I hear, “You can.”
Same blood, same prayer,
same open hand. Am I safe?
Will the ground stay still?
Will the boy who left
do his father’s will?
Life don’t fit
the shape I knew,
but his voice is steady,
love pulls me through.
6. America
They left home with a suitcase
and a prayer some didn’t trust,
heading north toward America
like pilgrims made of dust.
My mother said, “They’ll fear them, son,
that’s the way it’s always been.
Every stranger gets a story
long before they settle in.” And she was right about the hunger,
right about the open hand,
how the welcome turns to silence
when their footprints hit the land.
But she smiled like she’d seen centuries
written in a single face.
“Every person learns they’re hated
’til the next ones take their place.” Oh, this land keeps drawing borders
where no river ever ran,
naming strangers in the shadows
while it steals them for its plan.
But they walked on through the whisper,
through the cold and through the dust,
knowing someone must be hated
so the others can adjust. I’ve met men from every country,
women carved from every mile,
heard the tremble in their stories,
saw the fear behind each smile.
We were brothers in the waiting room
of a dream half-earned, half-owed,
each the villain for a moment
on somebody’s crowded road. And maybe that’s the history
we inherit in our bones,
that the lost arrive as strangers
’til their children call it home. Oh, this land keeps drawing borders
where the wild winds should be free,
but the hated turn to neighbors
when the next ones cross the sea.
And I walk on with the others,
every color, every trust,
knowing someone must be different
’til the world belongs to us.
7. The River
I met the river first
cold morning on the ridge.
It whispered, “Lay your burdens down
like stones beneath this bridge.”
I’d carried years away,
old anger, quiet fear,
but something in that water said,
“You’re safe to wander here.” So I’ll love with open hands
like breath that isn’t mine.
A heart grows where it stands
in borrowed light and time.
And who I am is carried
returning to the shore.
Oh God, teach me to love
the way I knew before. I walked a dusty road
where winter kissed the pines.
A stranger shared a crust of bread
and stories from his life.
He said, “Love breaks you down,
but breaking lets you see.
The cracks will show the hidden truth
between you and me.” So I’ll love with open hands
like breath that isn’t mine.
A heart grows where it stands
in borrowed light and time.
And who I am is carried
returning to the shore.
Oh God, teach me to love
the way I knew before. At dusk the sky turned gold,
a lamp on every hill.
I felt the ache of letting go,
the part that fought me still.
But love is not a fence,
it’s wind across the land,
a prayer moving through broken things
still asking for your hand. So I’ll love with open hands
like breath that isn’t mine.
A heart grows where it stands
in borrowed light and time.
And who I am is carried
returning to the shore.
Oh God, teach me to love
with open hands once more.
8. She’s All of Me
She fills my days,
the dark and clear.
In every breath,
she’s always near.
Her quiet presence
colors my view,
and every moment
comes back to you. She walks my sorrow,
she lifts my light.
She knows my weakness,
she stays the night.
Her silent courage
moves through my veins,
and where I’m breaking
she bears the strain. She’s all of my living,
my joy and my pain.
I lose and I find her
again and again.
In fire and stillness,
in wrong and in right,
she’s there in the falling,
she’s there in the rise. She stands in laughter,
she weeps in loss.
She bears the beauty,
she bears the cost.
Her faithful heartbeat
moves through my soul,
and loving her slowly
has made me whole. She’s all of my living,
my joy and my pain.
I lose and I find her
again and again.
In fire and stillness,
in wrong and in right,
she’s there in the falling,
she’s there in the rise. She’s in the breaking,
she’s in the peace.
She’s in the holding,
she’s in every heartbeat.
9. The Mount
I learned it from the ones who waited
while the louder voices won,
hands still open at the table
when there wasn’t much to come.
They never fought to be believed,
they never sharpened what they knew.
They carried kindness like a burden,
they were willing to walk through. Bless the ones who don’t push forward,
who don’t need to draw a line.
Bless the hearts that bend instead of breaking
every time.
It’s the quiet ones who hold the ground
when the rest of us let go.
They’re building something deeper
where no one’s keeping score. If you’re tired of the winning,
if you’re done with being strong,
there’s a mercy that keeps breathing
even when everything’s gone.
It doesn’t ask to be remembered,
it doesn’t need a name.
It just stays when others leave.
That’s the only way. Bless the ones who don’t push forward,
who don’t need to draw a line.
Bless the hearts that bend instead of breaking
every time.
It’s the quiet ones who hold the ground
when the rest of us let go.
They’re building something deeper
where no one’s keeping score.
10. Nobody Lives Here
Nobody lives here,
just the chair by the window,
and a Bible left open
where I marked what I don’t know.
Nobody lives here. The floors keep my secrets,
every step knows my weight,
and the mirror forgives me
like it’s tired of debate.
Yeah, the floors keep my secrets. In my chest there’s a hallway,
full of doors that won’t open,
full of prayers I half-spoken,
and dreams left unchosen.
In my chest there’s a hallway. I still chase every answer
like a moth to a flame,
thinking truth is a candle
that could whisper my name.
I still chase every answer. But the dust in the sunlight
knows better than me.
It dances for nothing,
it just wants to be free. In my chest there’s a hallway,
full of silence and mercy,
full of ghosts that still love me,
and a God who deserts me.
In my chest there’s a hallway. In my chest there’s a hallway,
in my chest there’s a hallway.
11. Let’s Go Fishing
We were out where the river bends,
two cheap rods and a couple friends.
You said, “I swear she was the one.”
I said, “Yeah… till the next one comes.” But you got quiet, looked away,
said, “No, not like her… not the same.” Let’s go fishing
for the one that got away.
You won’t find another,
no, there’s nothing quite the same.
We can laugh about it,
but we both know what you’ll say.
Let’s go fishing,
you might catch one like her today. You had her there on the line,
right place, wrong kind of time.
Now she’s somewhere you can’t go,
and it’s the one thing that you know. Every time you tell the tale,
your voice drops when you say her name. Let’s go fishing
for the one that got away.
You won’t find another,
no, there’s nothing quite the same.
We can laugh about it,
but we both know what you’ll say.
Let’s go fishing,
you might catch one like her today. Hey—
some don’t come back with the tide,
some just slip right through your life.
And no matter what you do,
you don’t get a second try. Let’s go fishing
for the one that got away.
You won’t find another,
no, there’s nothing quite the same.
We still talk about her
like she’s just a cast away.
Let’s go fishing,
you might catch one like her today.
12. Welcome to Heaven
When I got to heaven,
I found me a flame,
picked up a log,
carved out my name.
“Put another one on,”
he said with a grin.
“Sit down, kid,
there’s room, come on in.”
Black coat glowing
in the firelight,
said, “It’s a ring of fire,”
smiled just right. No reservations,
no velvet rope,
just pull in close
and feel at home. We’ll be laughing at the stories we told,
watching that fire turn silver and gold.
Nobody leaving, nobody alone,
biggest circle we’ve ever known.
If you got a story, go on, step in,
pull up a chair, welcome to heaven.
Welcome to heaven. Man in black said, “I walked the line,”
tipped his hat, said, “Took my time.”
Haggard laughed, said, “Mama tried,”
still made peace on the other side. Waylon leaned back, low and slow,
said, “I’ve always been this way, you know.”
We all smiled, let it ring,
truth don’t need much explaining. We’ll be laughing at the stories we told,
watching that fire turn silver and gold.
Nobody leaving, nobody alone,
biggest circle we’ve ever known.
If you got a story, go on, step in,
pull up a chair, welcome to heaven.
Welcome to heaven.
1. Lost
I’m a little bit lost,
I’m a little bit cold.
I’m a little bit tired
of being alone. And I don’t know where to go,
and I don’t know what to do.
I’m just a little bit lost
without you. I’m a little bit scared,
I’m a little bit weak.
I’m a little bit quiet
when I should speak. And I don’t know where to go,
and I don’t know what to do.
I’m just a little bit lost
without you.
2. Love Her Like A Forest
She moves like morning through the pines
Soft light finding its way inside
Some days quiet, some days wide
Full of echoes, full of life
You don’t rush what’s growing slow
You don’t ask the wild to show
Every step you learn to tread
Where the roots are deep instead Love her like a forest
Let her breathe, let her grow
Walk soft through the silence
Leave the good things alone
She’s not yours to capture
She’s not yours to explain
If you love her like a forest
She’ll stay There are seasons she won’t speak
Only wind and falling leaves
Times she’s burning full and bright
Times she’s holding all her light
You don’t fear the dark she brings
There’s a truth in quiet things
If you’re patient, if you wait
You’ll be met where shadows fade Love her like a forest
Let her breathe, let her grow
Walk soft through the silence
Leave the good things alone
She’s not yours to conquer
She’s not yours to name
If you love her like a forest
She’ll stay She can heal you, she can leave you
She will keep you in her heart
She remembers what you forget
She will know you, every part
3. I Need A Doctor
She asked me for the space,
said I should go away.
I packed a quiet bag
with words I couldn’t say.
I told her I was leaving,
I felt it break in two.
I still could say I loved her,
but didn’t know what was true. They say I need a doctor,
they say I’ve lost my way.
I don’t feel like I’m broken,
just trying how to stay.
I don’t need diagnosing,
I need a steady hand,
a little patient kindness,
someone who understands. I’m walking through the fire,
but I’m not running blind.
There’s love I’m still holding,
there’s peace I’m trying to find.
If letting go is mercy,
then let it come in time.
I’m learning how to carry
a heart that isn’t mine. Fifteen days of silence,
a house that isn’t home.
They tell me, “wait it out,”
but I don’t want alone.
I met someone who saw me,
but wouldn’t let me stay,
said, “go and fix what’s broken
before you walk away.” I’m walking through the fire,
but I’m not running blind.
There’s love I’m still holding,
there’s peace I’m trying to find.
If letting go is mercy,
then let it come in time.
I’m learning how to carry
a heart that isn’t mine. My daughters are the sunlight
that finds me in the waves,
the air inside my lungs
when I forget I’m saved.
I tried to hold the hurting
of everyone I knew,
but I was barely breathing
trying to pull them through. Woah… woah… woah…
Woah… woah… woah…
4. We Held On
We held on,
we held on.
Woah, woah. Leaning out the window,
summer on our skin.
You were laughing easy
like we’d just begin.
Every road was open,
every sky was wide.
Every breath between us
felt like we could fly. We were young,
we were wild in the light.
Never thought we’d have to
learn to fight. We held on through the doubt and the pain,
through the silence, through the rain.
Yeah, we held on when it bent, when it frayed,
through the ways we broke, through the love we made. Then the light shifted,
showed us what we missed,
all the quiet distance
in a moment’s drift.
Nights we turned away,
hearts too proud to speak,
trying just to win,
losing what we need. I’ve seen you in the dark,
I’ve seen the weight.
Still there’s something here
we couldn’t walk away from.
I’ve seen every scar,
every mistake.
Still there’s something here
we’re holding on to. We held on through the doubt and the pain,
through the silence, through the rain.
Yeah, we held on when it bent, when it frayed,
through the ways we broke, through the love we made. We held on,
we held on,
through the love we made. Not the start we imagined,
just the love we made.
5. Hands On My Head
Dad’s hands on my head,
said, “Stand tall, son.”
My first suit,
my shoes shined up.
Truth felt simple,
the world felt kind.
Twelve years old,
his faith was mine. That summer came,
my shirt was green.
A patch, a promise,
the sky was clean.
We rode east
to the city’s fire,
where noise and light
could lift or tire. Am I safe?
Will the ground stay still?
Will the boy who left
know his father still?
Life don’t fit
the shape I knew,
but his hands are steady,
they pull me through. He was me once,
young and proud.
Worked all night,
never said it loud.
Said, “Pain will teach
what words can’t find,”
and “quiet hearts
see God in time.” Am I safe?
Will the ground stay still?
Will the boy who left
find his father’s will?
Life don’t fit
the shape I knew,
but his voice is steady,
time pulls me through. When the dark says, “Stand,”
I hear, “You can.”
Same blood, same prayer,
same open hand. Am I safe?
Will the ground stay still?
Will the boy who left
do his father’s will?
Life don’t fit
the shape I knew,
but his voice is steady,
love pulls me through.
6. America
They left home with a suitcase
and a prayer some didn’t trust,
heading north toward America
like pilgrims made of dust.
My mother said, “They’ll fear them, son,
that’s the way it’s always been.
Every stranger gets a story
long before they settle in.” And she was right about the hunger,
right about the open hand,
how the welcome turns to silence
when their footprints hit the land.
But she smiled like she’d seen centuries
written in a single face.
“Every person learns they’re hated
’til the next ones take their place.” Oh, this land keeps drawing borders
where no river ever ran,
naming strangers in the shadows
while it steals them for its plan.
But they walked on through the whisper,
through the cold and through the dust,
knowing someone must be hated
so the others can adjust. I’ve met men from every country,
women carved from every mile,
heard the tremble in their stories,
saw the fear behind each smile.
We were brothers in the waiting room
of a dream half-earned, half-owed,
each the villain for a moment
on somebody’s crowded road. And maybe that’s the history
we inherit in our bones,
that the lost arrive as strangers
’til their children call it home. Oh, this land keeps drawing borders
where the wild winds should be free,
but the hated turn to neighbors
when the next ones cross the sea.
And I walk on with the others,
every color, every trust,
knowing someone must be different
’til the world belongs to us.
7. The River
I met the river first
cold morning on the ridge.
It whispered, “Lay your burdens down
like stones beneath this bridge.”
I’d carried years away,
old anger, quiet fear,
but something in that water said,
“You’re safe to wander here.” So I’ll love with open hands
like breath that isn’t mine.
A heart grows where it stands
in borrowed light and time.
And who I am is carried
returning to the shore.
Oh God, teach me to love
the way I knew before. I walked a dusty road
where winter kissed the pines.
A stranger shared a crust of bread
and stories from his life.
He said, “Love breaks you down,
but breaking lets you see.
The cracks will show the hidden truth
between you and me.” So I’ll love with open hands
like breath that isn’t mine.
A heart grows where it stands
in borrowed light and time.
And who I am is carried
returning to the shore.
Oh God, teach me to love
the way I knew before. At dusk the sky turned gold,
a lamp on every hill.
I felt the ache of letting go,
the part that fought me still.
But love is not a fence,
it’s wind across the land,
a prayer moving through broken things
still asking for your hand. So I’ll love with open hands
like breath that isn’t mine.
A heart grows where it stands
in borrowed light and time.
And who I am is carried
returning to the shore.
Oh God, teach me to love
with open hands once more.
8. She’s All of Me
She fills my days,
the dark and clear.
In every breath,
she’s always near.
Her quiet presence
colors my view,
and every moment
comes back to you. She walks my sorrow,
she lifts my light.
She knows my weakness,
she stays the night.
Her silent courage
moves through my veins,
and where I’m breaking
she bears the strain. She’s all of my living,
my joy and my pain.
I lose and I find her
again and again.
In fire and stillness,
in wrong and in right,
she’s there in the falling,
she’s there in the rise. She stands in laughter,
she weeps in loss.
She bears the beauty,
she bears the cost.
Her faithful heartbeat
moves through my soul,
and loving her slowly
has made me whole. She’s all of my living,
my joy and my pain.
I lose and I find her
again and again.
In fire and stillness,
in wrong and in right,
she’s there in the falling,
she’s there in the rise. She’s in the breaking,
she’s in the peace.
She’s in the holding,
she’s in every heartbeat.
9. The Mount
I learned it from the ones who waited
while the louder voices won,
hands still open at the table
when there wasn’t much to come.
They never fought to be believed,
they never sharpened what they knew.
They carried kindness like a burden,
they were willing to walk through. Bless the ones who don’t push forward,
who don’t need to draw a line.
Bless the hearts that bend instead of breaking
every time.
It’s the quiet ones who hold the ground
when the rest of us let go.
They’re building something deeper
where no one’s keeping score. If you’re tired of the winning,
if you’re done with being strong,
there’s a mercy that keeps breathing
even when everything’s gone.
It doesn’t ask to be remembered,
it doesn’t need a name.
It just stays when others leave.
That’s the only way. Bless the ones who don’t push forward,
who don’t need to draw a line.
Bless the hearts that bend instead of breaking
every time.
It’s the quiet ones who hold the ground
when the rest of us let go.
They’re building something deeper
where no one’s keeping score.
10. Nobody Lives Here
Nobody lives here,
just the chair by the window,
and a Bible left open
where I marked what I don’t know.
Nobody lives here. The floors keep my secrets,
every step knows my weight,
and the mirror forgives me
like it’s tired of debate.
Yeah, the floors keep my secrets. In my chest there’s a hallway,
full of doors that won’t open,
full of prayers I half-spoken,
and dreams left unchosen.
In my chest there’s a hallway. I still chase every answer
like a moth to a flame,
thinking truth is a candle
that could whisper my name.
I still chase every answer. But the dust in the sunlight
knows better than me.
It dances for nothing,
it just wants to be free. In my chest there’s a hallway,
full of silence and mercy,
full of ghosts that still love me,
and a God who deserts me.
In my chest there’s a hallway. In my chest there’s a hallway,
in my chest there’s a hallway.
11. Let’s Go Fishing
We were out where the river bends,
two cheap rods and a couple friends.
You said, “I swear she was the one.”
I said, “Yeah… till the next one comes.” But you got quiet, looked away,
said, “No, not like her… not the same.” Let’s go fishing
for the one that got away.
You won’t find another,
no, there’s nothing quite the same.
We can laugh about it,
but we both know what you’ll say.
Let’s go fishing,
you might catch one like her today. You had her there on the line,
right place, wrong kind of time.
Now she’s somewhere you can’t go,
and it’s the one thing that you know. Every time you tell the tale,
your voice drops when you say her name. Let’s go fishing
for the one that got away.
You won’t find another,
no, there’s nothing quite the same.
We can laugh about it,
but we both know what you’ll say.
Let’s go fishing,
you might catch one like her today. Hey—
some don’t come back with the tide,
some just slip right through your life.
And no matter what you do,
you don’t get a second try. Let’s go fishing
for the one that got away.
You won’t find another,
no, there’s nothing quite the same.
We still talk about her
like she’s just a cast away.
Let’s go fishing,
you might catch one like her today.
12. Welcome to Heaven
When I got to heaven,
I found me a flame,
picked up a log,
carved out my name.
“Put another one on,”
he said with a grin.
“Sit down, kid,
there’s room, come on in.”
Black coat glowing
in the firelight,
said, “It’s a ring of fire,”
smiled just right. No reservations,
no velvet rope,
just pull in close
and feel at home. We’ll be laughing at the stories we told,
watching that fire turn silver and gold.
Nobody leaving, nobody alone,
biggest circle we’ve ever known.
If you got a story, go on, step in,
pull up a chair, welcome to heaven.
Welcome to heaven. Man in black said, “I walked the line,”
tipped his hat, said, “Took my time.”
Haggard laughed, said, “Mama tried,”
still made peace on the other side. Waylon leaned back, low and slow,
said, “I’ve always been this way, you know.”
We all smiled, let it ring,
truth don’t need much explaining. We’ll be laughing at the stories we told,
watching that fire turn silver and gold.
Nobody leaving, nobody alone,
biggest circle we’ve ever known.
If you got a story, go on, step in,
pull up a chair, welcome to heaven.
Welcome to heaven.
WINTERFIELD – WAYFARING CHRISTIAN
Lyrics Collection Music & Lyrics by Paul Cardall Album tracks only • Section labels removed
1. The Moth
We were born in borrowed sermons
Taught to tremble, taught to pray
Told the shadows had their masters
And the good would find their way But we ran from what they whispered
We lit fires just to see
Every fear they swore would break us
Built the bones of who we’d be We fell, and fell, and fell again
Till falling was all we knew
But the ground became a gentler friend
Than faith we never grew
And now I see the dark’s not wrong
It’s where the light learns to survive
A moth among the butterflies The years have carved our faces open
Like the bark that splits in spring
There’s a peace that doesn’t beg for meaning
Just a song the silence sings We chased the sun, we burned our wings
We learned the night won’t bite
All the demons we were running from
Were just stars without the light We fell, and fell, and fell again
Till falling felt like flight
The dark is not a place to fear
It’s the home that holds the light
And no one sees the truth I find
A moth among the butterflies Let them keep their holy skies
I’ll take the dark where beauty hides
2. Set Me Free
I was raised
Where quiet softly grew.
Two soft lights
Still guiding me through.
Their gentle faith
A woven, simple thread.
I walked the path
They lovingly led.
My fragile heart,
A trembling little spark—
Something slowly woke
Inside the waiting dark. I learned to walk
A narrow, humble way.
Kept all my steps
Carefully tucked away.
Hid quiet whispers
Deep in my chest,
Afraid the seams
Would never truly rest.
But thoughts like rivers
Broke through the stone.
The wind revealed
All I’d outgrown. I tried to stand
Like mountains always stand.
Reached for heights
Too high for me to land.
And when the noise
Finally slipped away,
A different sight
Found me anyway.
A quiet truth
Rose soft and silently—
No need for words,
Nor any certainty. I walked through doors
Of blinding, endless white.
Felt sorrow move
Through every aching night.
Left broken pieces
Here in my wake,
Small scattered fragments
Of lives I’d try to make.
But suffering slowly
Unwound the steady thread—
And something new
Stood tall in its stead. I tried to stand
Like mountains always stand.
Reached for heights
Too high for me to land.
And when the noise
Finally slipped away,
A different sight
Found me anyway.
A quiet truth
Rose soft and silently—
No need for words,
Nor any certainty. Here now I stand,
A gentler, open soul.
A patchwork heart
Growing slowly whole.
Stillness waits
Inside the quiet me.
Truth needs no name
Or any pedigree.
Grace runs slow
Like calm and quiet sea—
Awakening rose
And finally set me free.
3. Not All Who Wander Are Lost
Morning on my shoulders,
Road dust on my knees.
Coffee in a tin cup,
Wind runs through the trees.
My Grand-dad by the fence line
Said, “Son, go find your song.”
I smiled and hit the highway
Unsure where my heart belongs. Not all who wander are lost—
Some hearts are just learning to open.
Some roads are prayers with a rhythm,
Some wounds are quietly mending.
And every shadow that I step through
Blooms with color once I’ve lost.
I’m learning joy can be gentle—
Not all who wander are lost. Twilight on the backroads,
We wed in sudden heat.
A warmth that rose too quickly,
Too bright for us to keep.
For fevered light fades softly
When hearts aren’t held and known
We parted with a blessing,
Down separate roads alone. Maybe home’s not a postcard,
Not a roof or a wooden door.
Maybe home is the quiet knowing
That you’re lighter than before. Not all who wander are lost—
Some hearts are just learning to open.
Some roads are prayers with a rhythm,
Some wounds are quietly mending.
And every shadow that I step through
Blooms with color once I’ve lost.
I’m learning joy can be gentle—
Not all who wander are lost.
4. Hung our Hearts
We built our home from borrowed daylight
Hung our hearts on beams of grace
Every laugh still haunts the doorway
Every silence knows your face The years moved slow but still they changed me
Dreams grew cracks where love had grown
I drove away but left my heartbeat
In the walls that made our home And the quiet after never ends
The house was sold and lived in again
I see you waving from the porch somehow
I still beat the heart of an empty house Our daughter’s voice still warms the morning
Like dust that dances in the sun
Her laughter lives inside the timber
And reminds me what I’ve done Some goodbyes burn and some just hollow
Some prayers fade but still come true
Love don’t die it just lies waiting
In the things we said we’d do And the quiet after never ends
The windows ache where dreams have been
I see that porch each time I close my eyes
I still beat the heart of an empty house I close the door but not my heart
I am still my daughter’s father
5. Love Breaks You Down
I met the river first,
Cold morning on the ridge.
It whispered, “Lay your burdens down
Like stones beneath this bridge.”
I’d carried years of weight—
Old anger, quiet fear.
But something in that water said,
“You’re safe to swim in here.” So I’ll love with open hands,
Like breath that isn’t mine.
A heart grows where it stands
In borrowed light and time.
And who I am’s a wave
Returning to the shore—
Oh God, teach me to love
The way I knew before. I walked a dusty road
Where winter kissed the pines.
A stranger shared a crust of bread
And stories from his lines.
He said, “Love breaks you down—
But breaking lets you see.
The cracks will show the hidden truth
That binds the ‘you and me.’” So I’ll love with open hands,
Like breath that isn’t mine.
A heart grows where it stands
In borrowed light and time.
And who I am’s a wave
Returning to the shore—
Oh God, teach me to love
The way I knew before. At dusk the sky turned gold,
A lamp on every hill.
I felt the ache of letting go,
The part that fought me still.
But love is not a fence—
It’s wind across the land.
A prayer that moves through broken things
And asks to take your hand. So I’ll love with open hands,
Like breath that isn’t mine.
A heart grows where it stands
In borrowed light and time.
And who I am’s a wave
Returning to the shore—
Oh God, teach me to love
Like open hands once more.
6. She Still Knows My Name
If you’re headin’ toward the desert sky,
Where the red dust drifts and the long roads lie,
Tell her I’m doing fine in Tennessee,
But my heart’s out west where my children sleep. There’s a woman here whose eyes still shine,
Like mercy worn smooth by time.
She loves me through the quiet storms,
Still, I drift toward the place I was born. Oh the wind still knows my name,
Carries my heart through the flame.
Home’s not a house or a line in the sand,
It’s wherever their laughter lands. I’ve stood by the river and watched it bend,
Heard silence rise where the prayers begin.
Between her dawn and my city’s rain,
I hold their light through joy and pain. So if you see her where the desert’s wide,
Where the storms roll slow and the years divide,
Tell her this soul, though scarred by time,
Still walks that road in another rhyme.
7. No Fists
I was taught to fight the current,
Dig my heels into the ground,
Read the water like a warning,
Hear a threat in every sound.
But the river never asked me
Who I thought I had to be—
It just held me in its silence
When I quit opposing me. Have faith, let go, lie back in the deep,
The tide remembers how to keep
Every soul that dares to breathe,
Every heart that loosens grip.
Have faith, unclench your hands,
The current understands.
When I stop resisting me,
I finally float,
I finally see. No fists, no guard, no earned release,
No borrowed strength, no bargains made.
The weight I carried wasn’t mine—
It vanished when I stayed. Have faith, let go, lie back in the deep,
The water’s always carried me.
I don’t have to fight to be—
I just breathe, and I am free.
Have faith, be still, belong,
The river’s known me all along.
When I stop fighting who I am,
I finally float,
I finally see.
8. She is Fire
She sees the truth,
the whole and clear.
I feel the truth,
the raw and near.
Her steady vision
meets my wild view—
and what she stands for
pulls me back through. She fights for good,
I ache for meaning.
She brings the order,
I bring the dreaming.
Her calm conviction
meets my untamed art,
and somehow her presence
restores my heart. She steadies my heartbeat,
she echoes my soul.
I drown in feeling—
she makes me whole.
We clash in passion,
we fuse in light;
the right in her rising,
the deep in me bright. She walks with purpose,
I walk with wonder.
She holds the line,
I drift like thunder.
Her grounded goodness
meets my restless flame,
and loving her slowly
rewrites my name. She steadies my heartbeat,
she echoes my soul.
I drown in feeling—
she makes me whole.
We clash in passion,
we fuse in light;
the right in her rising,
the deep in me bright. She’s brave precision,
I’m tender wild.
She lifts the grown man,
she softens the child. She steadies my heartbeat,
she carries my pain.
Her fire restores me
again and again.
We’re different on purpose,
we’re cut from one sun—
her truth and my longing
braid into one. She sees my depthlight,
I see her flame—
and both of our beauties
remake my name.
9. I Wanted You Happy
I read the past like footsteps lost,
I can’t retrace,
some carried hope, some crossed a line,
some erased.
I don’t know how a moment bends,
then seals its fate,
only that I love you still
and learn to bear the weight. I wanted you happy,
even if I stayed,
wanted you smiling
if I faded away.
Some love lets go
without knowing how—
I carry the wound,
you walk free now.
I wanted you happy then,
I want you happy now. We carried grief like heavy coats
we never laid aside,
names we don’t say out loud anymore,
dreams we never tried.
I thought if I could understand
the hurt from end to end,
it would loosen up its hold on me—
it only bent. I ran on borrowed breath too long,
mistook the flame for light,
confused the altar for a home,
the crowd for what was right.
I gave my heart to every call
that asked me to believe,
now I’m learning love is knowing
when to stay, and when to leave. I wanted you happy,
even if I stayed,
wanted you smiling
if I faded away.
Some love lets go
without knowing how—
I carry the wound,
you walk free now.
I wanted you happy then,
I want you happy now. I wanted you happy,
even if I stayed,
wanted you smiling
if I faded away.
Some love lets go
without knowing how—
I carry the wound,
you walk free now.
I wanted you happy then,
I want you happy now. I carry the wound,
you walk free.
10. Wayfaring Christian
I used to walk with my shoulders pulled tight,
lost in the dark, borrowing somebody’s light.
Then the quiet found me out on some back road bend,
and God was there waiting in the places I’d let end. Now I breathe in slowly and let the moment stay.
Morning breaks soft like it’s learning my name.
I don’t need much these days, just a voice I can hear.
Some days I swear heaven sits close as my fear. I’ve seen the church glow warm like a door left wide,
and I’ve seen the same room swallow hope inside.
But Jesus keeps saying what I keep losing track—
the kingdom I’m chasing has been living in my back. So I breathe in slowly and let the heartache speak.
Mercy hits my hands when I’m worn-out and weak.
I don’t need every answer to hold off my fear.
Some days I swear heaven leans right here. Light crawls through the cracks like it knows every scar,
turning old sorrow into something less hard. So I breathe in slowly and let the mystery stay.
There’s a low, humming wonder running under my day.
I’m done searching distance—love settled right here.
In the quiet inside me, heaven draws near. In the stillness I soften and finally feel home,
slowly learning the truth that I’ve never walked alone.
1. The Moth
We were born in borrowed sermons
Taught to tremble, taught to pray
Told the shadows had their masters
And the good would find their way But we ran from what they whispered
We lit fires just to see
Every fear they swore would break us
Built the bones of who we’d be We fell, and fell, and fell again
Till falling was all we knew
But the ground became a gentler friend
Than faith we never grew
And now I see the dark’s not wrong
It’s where the light learns to survive
A moth among the butterflies The years have carved our faces open
Like the bark that splits in spring
There’s a peace that doesn’t beg for meaning
Just a song the silence sings We chased the sun, we burned our wings
We learned the night won’t bite
All the demons we were running from
Were just stars without the light We fell, and fell, and fell again
Till falling felt like flight
The dark is not a place to fear
It’s the home that holds the light
And no one sees the truth I find
A moth among the butterflies Let them keep their holy skies
I’ll take the dark where beauty hides
2. Set Me Free
I was raised
Where quiet softly grew.
Two soft lights
Still guiding me through.
Their gentle faith
A woven, simple thread.
I walked the path
They lovingly led.
My fragile heart,
A trembling little spark—
Something slowly woke
Inside the waiting dark. I learned to walk
A narrow, humble way.
Kept all my steps
Carefully tucked away.
Hid quiet whispers
Deep in my chest,
Afraid the seams
Would never truly rest.
But thoughts like rivers
Broke through the stone.
The wind revealed
All I’d outgrown. I tried to stand
Like mountains always stand.
Reached for heights
Too high for me to land.
And when the noise
Finally slipped away,
A different sight
Found me anyway.
A quiet truth
Rose soft and silently—
No need for words,
Nor any certainty. I walked through doors
Of blinding, endless white.
Felt sorrow move
Through every aching night.
Left broken pieces
Here in my wake,
Small scattered fragments
Of lives I’d try to make.
But suffering slowly
Unwound the steady thread—
And something new
Stood tall in its stead. I tried to stand
Like mountains always stand.
Reached for heights
Too high for me to land.
And when the noise
Finally slipped away,
A different sight
Found me anyway.
A quiet truth
Rose soft and silently—
No need for words,
Nor any certainty. Here now I stand,
A gentler, open soul.
A patchwork heart
Growing slowly whole.
Stillness waits
Inside the quiet me.
Truth needs no name
Or any pedigree.
Grace runs slow
Like calm and quiet sea—
Awakening rose
And finally set me free.
3. Not All Who Wander Are Lost
Morning on my shoulders,
Road dust on my knees.
Coffee in a tin cup,
Wind runs through the trees.
My Grand-dad by the fence line
Said, “Son, go find your song.”
I smiled and hit the highway
Unsure where my heart belongs. Not all who wander are lost—
Some hearts are just learning to open.
Some roads are prayers with a rhythm,
Some wounds are quietly mending.
And every shadow that I step through
Blooms with color once I’ve lost.
I’m learning joy can be gentle—
Not all who wander are lost. Twilight on the backroads,
We wed in sudden heat.
A warmth that rose too quickly,
Too bright for us to keep.
For fevered light fades softly
When hearts aren’t held and known
We parted with a blessing,
Down separate roads alone. Maybe home’s not a postcard,
Not a roof or a wooden door.
Maybe home is the quiet knowing
That you’re lighter than before. Not all who wander are lost—
Some hearts are just learning to open.
Some roads are prayers with a rhythm,
Some wounds are quietly mending.
And every shadow that I step through
Blooms with color once I’ve lost.
I’m learning joy can be gentle—
Not all who wander are lost.
4. Hung our Hearts
We built our home from borrowed daylight
Hung our hearts on beams of grace
Every laugh still haunts the doorway
Every silence knows your face The years moved slow but still they changed me
Dreams grew cracks where love had grown
I drove away but left my heartbeat
In the walls that made our home And the quiet after never ends
The house was sold and lived in again
I see you waving from the porch somehow
I still beat the heart of an empty house Our daughter’s voice still warms the morning
Like dust that dances in the sun
Her laughter lives inside the timber
And reminds me what I’ve done Some goodbyes burn and some just hollow
Some prayers fade but still come true
Love don’t die it just lies waiting
In the things we said we’d do And the quiet after never ends
The windows ache where dreams have been
I see that porch each time I close my eyes
I still beat the heart of an empty house I close the door but not my heart
I am still my daughter’s father
5. Love Breaks You Down
I met the river first,
Cold morning on the ridge.
It whispered, “Lay your burdens down
Like stones beneath this bridge.”
I’d carried years of weight—
Old anger, quiet fear.
But something in that water said,
“You’re safe to swim in here.” So I’ll love with open hands,
Like breath that isn’t mine.
A heart grows where it stands
In borrowed light and time.
And who I am’s a wave
Returning to the shore—
Oh God, teach me to love
The way I knew before. I walked a dusty road
Where winter kissed the pines.
A stranger shared a crust of bread
And stories from his lines.
He said, “Love breaks you down—
But breaking lets you see.
The cracks will show the hidden truth
That binds the ‘you and me.’” So I’ll love with open hands,
Like breath that isn’t mine.
A heart grows where it stands
In borrowed light and time.
And who I am’s a wave
Returning to the shore—
Oh God, teach me to love
The way I knew before. At dusk the sky turned gold,
A lamp on every hill.
I felt the ache of letting go,
The part that fought me still.
But love is not a fence—
It’s wind across the land.
A prayer that moves through broken things
And asks to take your hand. So I’ll love with open hands,
Like breath that isn’t mine.
A heart grows where it stands
In borrowed light and time.
And who I am’s a wave
Returning to the shore—
Oh God, teach me to love
Like open hands once more.
6. She Still Knows My Name
If you’re headin’ toward the desert sky,
Where the red dust drifts and the long roads lie,
Tell her I’m doing fine in Tennessee,
But my heart’s out west where my children sleep. There’s a woman here whose eyes still shine,
Like mercy worn smooth by time.
She loves me through the quiet storms,
Still, I drift toward the place I was born. Oh the wind still knows my name,
Carries my heart through the flame.
Home’s not a house or a line in the sand,
It’s wherever their laughter lands. I’ve stood by the river and watched it bend,
Heard silence rise where the prayers begin.
Between her dawn and my city’s rain,
I hold their light through joy and pain. So if you see her where the desert’s wide,
Where the storms roll slow and the years divide,
Tell her this soul, though scarred by time,
Still walks that road in another rhyme.
7. No Fists
I was taught to fight the current,
Dig my heels into the ground,
Read the water like a warning,
Hear a threat in every sound.
But the river never asked me
Who I thought I had to be—
It just held me in its silence
When I quit opposing me. Have faith, let go, lie back in the deep,
The tide remembers how to keep
Every soul that dares to breathe,
Every heart that loosens grip.
Have faith, unclench your hands,
The current understands.
When I stop resisting me,
I finally float,
I finally see. No fists, no guard, no earned release,
No borrowed strength, no bargains made.
The weight I carried wasn’t mine—
It vanished when I stayed. Have faith, let go, lie back in the deep,
The water’s always carried me.
I don’t have to fight to be—
I just breathe, and I am free.
Have faith, be still, belong,
The river’s known me all along.
When I stop fighting who I am,
I finally float,
I finally see.
8. She is Fire
She sees the truth,
the whole and clear.
I feel the truth,
the raw and near.
Her steady vision
meets my wild view—
and what she stands for
pulls me back through. She fights for good,
I ache for meaning.
She brings the order,
I bring the dreaming.
Her calm conviction
meets my untamed art,
and somehow her presence
restores my heart. She steadies my heartbeat,
she echoes my soul.
I drown in feeling—
she makes me whole.
We clash in passion,
we fuse in light;
the right in her rising,
the deep in me bright. She walks with purpose,
I walk with wonder.
She holds the line,
I drift like thunder.
Her grounded goodness
meets my restless flame,
and loving her slowly
rewrites my name. She steadies my heartbeat,
she echoes my soul.
I drown in feeling—
she makes me whole.
We clash in passion,
we fuse in light;
the right in her rising,
the deep in me bright. She’s brave precision,
I’m tender wild.
She lifts the grown man,
she softens the child. She steadies my heartbeat,
she carries my pain.
Her fire restores me
again and again.
We’re different on purpose,
we’re cut from one sun—
her truth and my longing
braid into one. She sees my depthlight,
I see her flame—
and both of our beauties
remake my name.
9. I Wanted You Happy
I read the past like footsteps lost,
I can’t retrace,
some carried hope, some crossed a line,
some erased.
I don’t know how a moment bends,
then seals its fate,
only that I love you still
and learn to bear the weight. I wanted you happy,
even if I stayed,
wanted you smiling
if I faded away.
Some love lets go
without knowing how—
I carry the wound,
you walk free now.
I wanted you happy then,
I want you happy now. We carried grief like heavy coats
we never laid aside,
names we don’t say out loud anymore,
dreams we never tried.
I thought if I could understand
the hurt from end to end,
it would loosen up its hold on me—
it only bent. I ran on borrowed breath too long,
mistook the flame for light,
confused the altar for a home,
the crowd for what was right.
I gave my heart to every call
that asked me to believe,
now I’m learning love is knowing
when to stay, and when to leave. I wanted you happy,
even if I stayed,
wanted you smiling
if I faded away.
Some love lets go
without knowing how—
I carry the wound,
you walk free now.
I wanted you happy then,
I want you happy now. I wanted you happy,
even if I stayed,
wanted you smiling
if I faded away.
Some love lets go
without knowing how—
I carry the wound,
you walk free now.
I wanted you happy then,
I want you happy now. I carry the wound,
you walk free.
10. Wayfaring Christian
I used to walk with my shoulders pulled tight,
lost in the dark, borrowing somebody’s light.
Then the quiet found me out on some back road bend,
and God was there waiting in the places I’d let end. Now I breathe in slowly and let the moment stay.
Morning breaks soft like it’s learning my name.
I don’t need much these days, just a voice I can hear.
Some days I swear heaven sits close as my fear. I’ve seen the church glow warm like a door left wide,
and I’ve seen the same room swallow hope inside.
But Jesus keeps saying what I keep losing track—
the kingdom I’m chasing has been living in my back. So I breathe in slowly and let the heartache speak.
Mercy hits my hands when I’m worn-out and weak.
I don’t need every answer to hold off my fear.
Some days I swear heaven leans right here. Light crawls through the cracks like it knows every scar,
turning old sorrow into something less hard. So I breathe in slowly and let the mystery stay.
There’s a low, humming wonder running under my day.
I’m done searching distance—love settled right here.
In the quiet inside me, heaven draws near. In the stillness I soften and finally feel home,
slowly learning the truth that I’ve never walked alone.