we're scratching the surface, baby,
diving in deep,
no matter how foolish or blind it may be.
your walls are falling down so quickly,
but why?
it's unlike you.
I like to imagine that it's because I
came into your life like an earthquake;
laying dormant for so long, warming up,
then striking at the perfect time.
sometimes ruins are a good thing, baby.
you were a vacant home, rotting from the inside.
when your walls came crashing down,
the opportunity to rebuild arose.
I'll be the carpenter, baby.
I'll build you up, working daily.
when you're bold and big and beautiful
like you once were long ago before the floods came,
before the neglect and tarnish,
I'll unload your baggage, bringing it to light.
I'll make your pain, your struggles,
into beautiful furnishings, accenting you,
building character, adding to your uniqueness.
and, baby, when I'm done,
I'll inhabit you and care for you.
you'll be my refuge, my home, mine,
no matter how far i venture.
I'll always come back to your warmth
and your protection
once again.