Making Room (Live) - Maggie Kearney

Making Room (Live in Peterborough) By Maggie Kearney St. Catherine’s Records Copyright 2026 Lyrics: [Verse 1] You kept your winter coat in July Like the weather owed you rent I kept a list of reasons why And lost the list by accident We met beside the laundromat Where the dryers shook the floor You said, “I’ve had better evenings” I said, “Too bad you’re such a bore Still, here we are, we’re making room For a little grace in a crowded room You make the ordinary look almost new And I’m learning how to move forward with you If love is a map, we’re reading it wrong But somehow the wrong turns keep bringing us on I don’t need forever carved into stone Just your hand finding mine when we’re headed home [Verse 2] Your mother sends us kitchen chairs With one good leg between the pair We prop them up with paperback books And call it Scandinavian flair The old house settles after dark The pipes complain, the floorboards sing You laugh and say, “We bought a fixer-upper” I say, “We mostly fixed the wrong thing” [Chorus] Still, here we are, we’re making room For a little grace in a crowded room You make the ordinary look almost new And I’m learning how to move forward with you If love is a map, we’re reading it wrong But somehow the wrong turns keep bringing us on I don’t need forever carved into stone Just your hand finding mine when we’re headed home [Bridge] I remember the faces I couldn’t keep The promises that expired in their sleep Some days memory sharpens its knife Some days it just helps me identify The small bright things I nearly miss: Your temper cooling, your crooked kiss The world keeps asking what comes next You shrug and say, “We’ll see, I guess” [Final Chorus] So here we are, we’re making room For a little grace in a crowded room You make the ordinary look almost new And I’m grateful for the work of loving you If love is a map, we’re reading it wrong But somehow the wrong turns keep bringing us on No grand design, no polished stone Just your hand finding mine when we’re headed home [Outro] The chairs still wobble, the kettle still rings We’re getting better at unfinished things You look at me like I already know I smile and say, “Give me a minute—I’m slow”