Maverick City Music + Joe L Barnes + Ryan Ofei - Rumors Lyrics
Lyrics
I’ve heard rumors
Of a well that won’t run dry
I’ve heard rumors
Of a love that never dies
Is it true, Is it true
I’ve heard whispers
Of an unrelenting grace
I’ve heard whispers
Of a god who knows my name
Is it true? Is it true?
I’ve heard whispers
Of a flame that won’t burn out
I’ve heard whispers
Of a (love) that has no doubt
Chorus
The evidence is everywhere
My confidence is growing
I’ll testify I will prophesy
I’ll start rumors of my own
I’ve seen wonders
The miraculous has come
I’ve seen wonders
The impossible be done
It is true, it’s all true
Everything they’ve said about you
It is true, it’s all true
Everything I’ve read about you
I’ve heard rumors
Of a well that won’t run dry
I’ve heard rumors
Of a love that never dies
Is it true, Is it true
I’ve heard whispers
Of an unrelenting grace
I’ve heard whispers
Of a god who knows my name
Is it true? Is it true?
The evidence is everywhere
My confidence is growing
I’ll testify I will prophesy
I’ll start rumors of my own
Video
Rumors (feat. Joe L Barnes, Mariah Adigun & Ryan Ofei) | TRIBL | Maverick City Music
Meaning & Inspiration
"I’ve heard rumors of a well that won’t run dry."
That’s how Maverick City Music, Joe L Barnes, and Ryan Ofei start this track. And I’ll be honest—my gut reaction is to check the exits. "Rumors" is an interesting word choice. In the real world, rumors are usually hearsay, unverified gossip, things you say when you don't actually know the facts. If you’re sitting in an office after a layoff meeting, or you’re standing over a casket, "rumors" don't pay the rent and they don't bring the dead back to life.
When you’re in the middle of a drought—when your own personal well hasn't had a drop of water in months—being told that there’s a supply somewhere else feels like Cheap Grace. It sounds nice on a Sunday morning when the lights are low and the air conditioning is humming. But does it hold up when your car won’t start or the diagnosis comes back negative?
Scripture has this habit of being more abrasive than our songs. Think about Jeremiah 2:13, where God talks about his people forsaking the "fountain of living waters" to carve out broken cisterns that hold no water. That’s a gritty image. It’s not a whisper or a rumor; it’s an accusation. It acknowledges that we are perpetually thirsty and perpetually bad at finding the right source.
The song asks, "Is it true? Is it true?"
I want to know if it's true, but not because I like the melody. I want to know if it’s true because I’m tired of the metaphors. If God is a "well that won’t run dry," why do so many people who walk through these doors look like they’re dying of thirst? There’s a disconnect between the confidence of the chorus—"The evidence is everywhere"—and the reality of a Tuesday afternoon when the evidence looks like a pile of medical bills and a silent house.
Maybe the "rumor" part is the most honest thing here. Faith isn't a guaranteed, signed contract; it’s choosing to act like the rumor is a fact even when the landscape is barren. It’s Elijah running from Jezebel, terrified and depressed, sitting under a broom tree while God asks him what he’s doing there (1 Kings 19). Elijah knew the "rumors" of God’s power, but he was still a human being in the dirt, exhausted and wanting out.
If I’m going to sing about starting "rumors of my own," I need to make sure I’m not just repeating hearsay to make myself feel better. If this grace is truly "unrelenting," it has to be able to survive the interrogation of someone who has lost everything. If it can't, it’s just another comforting lie. I’m still standing here at the back, waiting to see if the well actually has water, or if we’re all just staring into an empty hole, pretending we aren't parched.