When I'm with you
its like the roof of my house is being repaired
the knocks on my doors
a hammer on my house

It's annoying but the intentions are good

When I'm with you
I want to protest
I want my voice to color the streets
and hear the voices of the priests and preachers
a fist in the air
steeple in my heart

I'm tired now

When I'm with you
I don't want to write anymore
the seas of my mind are calmed
the fog can roll in
and the little boats can safely come to shore

I feel my eyes light up
like lights on little boats
like hammers on houses
like steeples and slumber