We were young when we built our first house
Each brick was a dream of ours
And though the house was supported
We built it too big.
Too many empty halls,
Too many empty rooms,
So secrets began to check into them.
And when these house guests gathered for breakfast
Their welcome was outgrown.
So our big house emptied, one by one
And it seemed to be the end.

But of course, we could always downsize.

So we were still young when we built our second house
This time, being much smaller
But, unsurprisingly,
This home didn't last long either.
A huge storm arrived,
And tore the boards apart
Yet each gust was oh so tender,
It was as if they came from your hands.

And though I loved to be right,
I hated being right about this.