The world must look different to you
You wear a hat and shined shoes
It must have a smiling face
A face I knew
For I am just a lone chimney sweep
Pushing around the dust
No weather brings surprise
No world changes for us
Same stories keep the fire company
Same sandwich for lunch
We only give what is asked for
We never ask for much
Another day up the chimney
Not a complaint nor a fuss
Our world doesn't have any ears
The world looks different for us

I cry for the wind sometimes
How she gives up far too easily after she rages so heavily
And screams in all her might stirring and swirling everything about
Like a child tossing all her toys out of her cot
Like a drunk swearing at the moon
I cry because we are far too alike
We burst and quake, let the earth feel our discontentment
Then when all our quaking is done
And the air is out our lungs, we lay weak in the shadows of ourselves
With only our bare skin to swaddle us

Do you water the flowers who grow in your garden?
Do you share in their joy once their growth has started?
Will they be wilting, or will they bloom?
Are you their savior or will you be their doom?

I saw a glimpse of peace today
A ripple in time
A moment a deity let slip from its eyes
When a second had passed
The moment was lost
But I'll alway remember that glimpse of the sky

Thinking about the rain from in between my bedsheets
Ideas of the world start to join in in dead heaps
But all that I need
Is the peace that it brings
Not the worry it brought
With a head full of thought
Oh the rain is a pain when it doesn't clean your brain
From dirt stained ideas that could clog up your drain
Thinking about rain as it pours from the sky
And drowns me in bed while my bedsheets are dry

And if I...
I do not run
My season for love
Will come and go
Like the winds and the snow
Away in the night
Can love be alright
Without a chest
To call home?
But If I let it inside
Offer a safe place to hide
Like the clouds hold the rain
Like a candle does a flame
Will it die in my skin
That has coldness beneath
Can love build a home
In a chest made of stone?

The moon steals my attention
It's a thief in the night
Has there ever been a name for thief who steals delight?