holes and stains fill my sheets,
loose hinges on the door.
the boards at night they do creak,
as the ceiling leaks, onto the floor.

this wretched house that boards my soul, a vestige now of a hopeless goal. walls built high and nails drove deep, my mind to save, my heart to keep.

safe from earth and wind, fire and rain.
yet ill prepared for this torrent of pain.
all that I've built, now falling in decay. I feel there's nothing left of self, or the things I was ment to say.

so wrap me in my sheets & step lightly as you close the door. worry not about the leaks, for in this house it will always pour.