From the recording Dust to Crown: Chapter I - The Hero's Journey
Ode to Broken Things draws on Pablo Neruda’s ode to honor cracked cups, worn clocks, and other damaged objects as symbols of quiet survival. Reflective lo-fi production and intimate vocals find beauty in what is chipped and used, marking the moment when accepting one's own brokenness becomes the start of healing.
Lyrics
"Ode to Broken Things:
Apartment full of chipped tables and half‑dead phones
Mismatched mugs on the counter like busted thrones
Clock on the wall froze up mid‑afternoon
Little red second hand stuck like a quiet wound
There’s a hairline crack in the bathroom mirror light
Every angle show a version of a life not right
Broken blinds hang twisted like tired ribs
Neon from the block paints scars on the crib
Stuff keeps breaking at the crib like a ghost in the scene
Not my hands, not yours, just the slow grind in between
Life chews up glass and dreams in the same routine
All these pieces in my palms, tryna see what they mean
Everything falls apart at home like some unseen force came crashing
Little everyday things blow out like they couldn’t stop smashing
Brand new hearts, bruised plates, cracked in the sink
Day by day the grind takes more than we think
If it all comes loose, let the shoreline carry it free
When it’s time to release, let the waves hold the weight that’s been dragging me
There’s a box in the closet full of dead remotes
Old love letters and expired subway notes
Screens with spiderweb fractures like frozen rain
Numbers of the ones I lost I can’t call again
Clay pot on the sill turned to powdered gray
Held color for years till it crumbled away
My uncle’s watch gave up after one last shift
Fog on the crystal, then the hands just slipped
Things keep breaking in the rooms of the heart and bone
Not your fault, not mine, just the weight that we’ve always known
Everything falls apart at home like some unseen force came crashing
So many throwaway things blow out like they couldn’t stop smashing
If it all comes loose, let the shoreline carry it free
When it’s time to release, let the waves hold the weight that’s been dragging me
Let’s pack all our treasures in one beat‑up sack
Clocks, phones, cups, shoes, all the pieces we lack
We’ll walk down the block where the concrete ends
Where the city breathes out and the coastline bends
Then we launch it all deep where the swells run wide
If the water’s got patience for a million rough tides
Everything falls apart at home when that unseen force comes crashing through
But out in the salt and the foam, even sharp little shards feel new
If it all comes loose, let the shoreline carry it free
When my fingers let go, may the waves make something better from me"