I built a home for you beneath my chest plate,

A creaky little house, but sturdy nonetheless,

With the strongest walls my shaking hands could build,

With plenty of windows for sunlight and chilly autumn winds,

And smooth, cedar wood floors for dancing barefoot,

Then you brought a storm the walls couldn't bear,

That shattered the windows and split the floors,

In my chest, the little house collapsed and tore through me,

The flood came and now I'm building walls instead of little houses.