I remember when you told me to let it go The words slipped out of your mouth but never did you let pride slip out of your fingers I know, because every syllable still stings The surface of my heart.
Mr. Building, you let go. Allow the wind to blow against your hair and create wrinkles on your clothing But never let it Knock the dreams right out of you Because I believe in them and never will I Even stutter those words to you le-le-let Me take your hand and help you carry those burdens Don't ever drop your ceramic hope, Cling on to your glassy aspirations because dreams Are made of fine china So precious So fragile So so so beautiful Please don't let your chin fall to the ground. Lift yourself up, Because the world deserves to see How tall He's built you But prove to them That when the earthquake comes, You height's got nothing on your Foundations. And if telling me to let it go Is to break me back into concrete, Powder, Cement, Then by all means demolish these Stories and hammer through these Crevasses Because every broken window Is worth seeing you succeed. It'll hurt me to the very ground, But your standing tall Will help me recover.
I remember when you told me to let it go Your breath smelled of coffee. I can tell you've had a rough night.
And maybe Just maybe you spent those sleepless nights Deciding whether you should Let it go, too.
It's late and my mind only knows how to speak in metaphor.