Verse 1 The light slides off the windowsill like a coin I cannot catch, A coffee cup trembles, then it settles into match. You taught me how to measure time by the tilt of your hand, Now every little motion is a map I don’t understand. Pre-Chorus There’s a tremor in the doorway where your shadow used to rest, A language made of fractures that I never learned to guess. Chorus One small flick of a broken wrist and the world rearranged, A quiet arithmetic where the ordinary’s estranged. I count the cost in tiny things you used to do with ease, And every careless movement brings me back down to my knees. Verse 2 The photograph is crooked, like the truth we tried to frame, Your handwriting on the margin still signs my name. A ribbon on the banister, a coat left on a chair, The house keeps all the gestures like a ledger of the air. Pre-Chorus I practice how to hold a cup without the tremor showing through, But muscle learns the memory of the way it learned of you. Chorus One small flick of a broken wrist and the world rearranged, A quiet arithmetic where the ordinary’s estranged. I count the cost in tiny things you used to do with ease, And every careless movement brings me back down to my knees. Bridge Maybe healing is a rumor that the body tells the bone, Maybe patience is a currency we spend when we’re alone. There’s grace in crooked angles, there’s mercy in the scar, A crooked hand can still make music if you learn to play the part. Breakdown The clock forgets the seconds, the floor remembers weight, I learn to read the silence like a language of the late. A flick becomes a promise, a pause becomes a wish, I keep the small, imperfect things that fit inside your fist. Chorus Variation One small flick of a broken wrist and the world rearranged, The smallest acts become the proof that nothing stays the same. I count the cost in tiny things and find the courage to believe, That even broken motion can be taught again to breathe. Outro So I fold the day like paper and I mend it with my hands, Trace the arc of absence until it learns to stand. One small flick, one careful touch, a slow and steady twist, Learning how to move again with a flick of a broken wrist.

Flick Of A Broken Wrist