I pressed my palms against the clouds to keep the sky from falling down, when you were weak, I would keep you safe and sound.
I have this pulsing in my veins from all these ******* growing pains, And I'll feel weak, but my heart will feel the same way.

She apologizes without wronging and it gets under my skin,
How she thinks "I ****** up bad this time, so i guess i'll just give in".
She tells me I'm missed dearly, and I ask if she's okay,
though I know she's crying in her head while she thinks of words to say.
She's lost the light that I watched grow and her eyes seem to show a pain,
As if she has given up on the good, like there is nothing left to gain.
She hears me tell her softly how I know it will be alright,
I can't tell if she's listening or just trying to survive the night.

She has such a beautiful smile, when you see it showing true,
But lately I've been worried. All you're showing me is blue.

If I am a rose, then let me be your bouquet.
If I am your bouquet, then let me be your garden.
If I am your garden, then let me be your field.
If I am your field, then let me be your happy place.

And if you get weak, and sleepy, and blue,
then let me be your flower bed, so I can hold you.