Open the door, slowly and quietly.
Reach in, take her small, frail body.
Hold her close, she won't be small for long.
It was a long drive,
She must have drifted off to sleep.

Roll up your sleeve, gently and methodically.
Reach down, take your pen and begin.
Draw carefully now, these require care.
This butterfly needs form,
Form that you can give it.

Sit down to the piano, solemnly and sad.
Reach out, feel the keys cold surface.
Play slowly now, you might betray yourself.
A sad song is only sad
When the pianist feels it too.

Take a seat. Waiting and waiting.
Reach towards the clock.
Only time will tell when the sun comes up.
It's hard to know,
When you can't find a window.

But don't worry.
The sun rises and falls each day,
Whether you're there or not.
So today,
I'm sure it's quite excited.
To rise on you.