Broken Compass

(Verse 1)

I’ve got a compass in my pocket from a town I used to know

With a needle rusted in place by a man who wouldn’t let go

He drew a circle 'round the porch swing and he called it "Holy Ground"

And I spent my girlhood walking paths where no secrets could be found

I used to read his silence like a dusty library book

Searching for a kinder way to handle how he’d look

But he had a map of "No-Man's-Land" he kept within his glove

And he swore that staying narrow was the only way to love.

(Chorus)

But I’m holding up this silver case to the gold of a morning sky

Watching the ghost of his direction finally say goodbye

I’m taking a deep breath now, stepping past the line

Leaving all his "thou-shalt-nots" for a world that’s mostly mine

Finding true north in the kind of places he would never call a friend

Past the East Texas borderline, where the straight roads finally bend.

(Verse 2)

I used to wear his heavy anger like a winter coat in June

Thinking cruelty was a rhythm I was born to keep in tune

I thought the sharp edge of his tongue was a price I had to pay

For the "sins" he saw in every girl who dared to look away

But those city lights are calling and the sky is opening wide

There ain't no room for judgment when you’ve got the wind on your side

He can keep his bitter ledger and his stories of the past

I’m trading in his "broken" for a love that’s gonna last.

(Bridge)

And the ground feels solid beneath my boots today

The needle’s finally spinning in a wild and happy way

I’m listening to the radio, catching a brand new song

Learning that the "lost" ones were right all along

I’m letting go of shadows like a suitcase left behind

I’m finding my own "True North" and a peace I couldn’t find.

(Chorus)

Yeah, I’m holding up this silver case to the gold of a morning sky

Watching the ghost of his direction finally say goodbye

I’m taking a deep breath now, stepping past the line

Leaving all his "thou-shalt-nots" for a world that’s mostly mine

Finding north in the kind of places he would never call a friend

Past the east Texas borderline, where the straight roads finally bend.