Inside I rattle like there's lose change in my rib cage
And as a tin man I wonder round waiting to rust.
So she stole some shiny parts
and pried me piece from piece.

She placed my head on her shelf
with a mirror to my side so I'd look at myself
and sang me sweet little lies
'til I opened my eyes.

With each night she spoke to me
she'd tease me with a lit cigarette
so I'd beg her to breath
Smokey life back into me.

Now armed with everything
from hands til torso
I feared the day she'd let me go...
But she'd build me up no more.

On our last day she left
with my feet on the floor
at the end of wide open door
and a note in the hall so I would find her.

A shelf now seemed a cliff
but I fell for her
Scrapping along I picked myself up
And pulled myself together.

With a wobbly walk
I reached her note
"I'm so proud of you..." She wrote
"But now I'm the one who needs building".

On a pile I found my former self
pried it open and saw some change
and used it to buy the paint
that still shields me from the rain.

Wondering round again
a life time later
I'd see a familiar silhouette
I wasn't able to forget.

And brought her head inside...