[Verse 1]
I'm not ashamed to tell the whole world, oh
Without you, I'm nothing at all
That I have strings in need of mending
I'm out of tune in certain parts
So strum the chords of mercy
Restore my soul completely
Lay your hand upon me
And this instrument will breathe
[Chorus]
'Cause you're the music of my heart
(Yeah yeah yeah yeah)
The melody within my soul
(Yeah yeah yeah yeah)
The song that holds me in the dark
(Yeah yeah yeah yeah)
The fire that warms me when I'm cold
(Yeah yeah yeah yeah)
The symphony that calms my fear
(Yeah yeah yeah yeah)
The lyric that I long to hear
(Yeah yeah yeah yeah)
The masterpiece, the work of art
Complete before I start
The music of my heart
Yeah
Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
Creator of all that is lovely, oh
Write a tune upon my heart
And when you finish will you play me
Like a beautiful guitar?
Strum the chords of mercy
Restore my soul completely
Breathe life into me
And this instrument will sing
[Repeat Chorus]
Of my heart
I'm captivated
(Ha-Ha-Ha-Ha-Heart)
Of my heart
My soul's elated
(Ha-Ha-Ha-Ha-Heart)
Of my heart
Because
Every single line's full of love divine
Write me like a valentine
[Repeat Chorus]
Yeah, the music of my heart
Of my heart
The music of my heart
Of my heart
The music of my heart
Music Of My Heart
Song Meaning
Nicole C. Mullen builds "Music Of My Heart" entirely around a single extended metaphor — comparing herself to a damaged instrument rather than describing brokenness in the abstract. "That I have strings in need of mending, I'm out of tune in certain parts" turns a common confession into something concrete and mechanical, an object needing a specific kind of repair rather than a vague inner struggle.
"So strum the chords of mercy, restore my soul completely, lay your hand upon me" keeps the metaphor consistent rather than switching images halfway through — mercy itself becomes the hand that tunes and plays. "I'm not ashamed to tell the whole world, without you I'm nothing at all" states the song's dependence plainly, without qualifying it or softening the claim.
"The masterpiece, the work of art, complete before I start" closes the metaphor by locating the finished product not in the singer's own effort but in what's being made of her — the instrument doesn't tune or complete itself, it simply becomes, in the song's own words, "the music of my heart" once someone else plays it.