He doesn't have a lot of money
But he's got just enough time on his hands
And his hands
Are soft and skilled and soothing
When they brush across the apples of my cheeks

Wherever I am with you, that's what I'll call home
And I know my walls are tall but they're old
And they're crumbling
Pack another bowl in my piece. Spend a little more time with me please... Don't go.

Can I sink into your spirit
Can I soar inside the place where you feel safe
I'm tired of being sick of the cold, Hold me Closer.
Just like that, as if you always have.