iii. Broken Instrument - Victory

Every now and then he fishes through the dirt piles

He’s the local street bum,

from which everyone witholds their smiles

He gave no concern to the judgments that other people made

and walked right inside the junkyard, unafraid

Closer and closer he gets, to the spot where I reside

one object after the next, he tosses aside

And I cannot lie, I’m hoping that he’ll pick me up

But I’m almost certain that I’ll be denied

Closer and closer he gets and to my surprise

He stops all the digging and fixes his eyes

on me

He pulled me up and wiped off the dust

but then he saw the crack in my side

and I thought he would put me right back

No, into his cart and close to his heart

He treasured me, as he pushed me through the junkyard gates

Who is this man that he can see, value in me

Who is this man that he can hear, the plight that I plead

Yes, we went through town, away from the junkyard

where I was found

We passed the place where I broke down

We going somewhere that’s safe and sound

And to my surprise, we came right to the biggest

mansion around

This man is not a street bum, what he wears, is a disguise

He took me inside and fixed me up with new parts and supplies

Oh this man, must be the maker for which I’ve cried

Who else would believe in me?

a broken instrument, that died

I’ve never known music to be so fine

the way he plays me is so divine

The whole world hears us together and starts to cry

So let my sound forever be, a testament of

How the maker can restore value to the life of a broken instrument