Small Good Things

Lyrics — written by hand

(Ooh) small and enough

Bread that was still warm when I got home,
a stranger who held the door.
The bus arrived exactly when it said —
I don't ask the day for more.

I used to wait on the big one,
some morning that would settle the score.
It never came. Something quieter did:
a hundred little doors.

Small good things —
they never knock, they just arrive.
A song, a coat, a kettle on,
that's how a man stays alive.

Rain on the shoulder of a borrowed coat,
a dog that didn't bark.
The neighbour's radio through the wall
playing something in the dark.

Small good things —
they never knock, they just arrive.
A song, a coat, a kettle on,
that's how a man stays alive.

I'm not counting blessings like a debt,
I'm learning what to see.
The gold was never up ahead —
it was here at the table with me.

Small good things —
they never knock, they just arrive.
A song, a coat, a kettle on,
that's how a man stays alive.

(Ooh) bread, and light, and being known.
(Ooh) still standing when the loud things are gone.