I stooped down low at the top of the bannister, peering down the stairs I heard the TV softly sounding soft.
I remember the course grain of the carpet, sleeping there, on the top stair.
All I've ever known or loved I tried to hold it there.
And you lift my sad heart, even though you are long since dead and gone.
The sound of quietness that settles on my home, a place I still can call my own.
I've kissed the sunkissed hair of friends who I can't remember anymore; but the sunlight still smells the same.
I step up when the pressure's on, you've crushed me over and over and crushed me again.
You've taught me to be fine of form and clear with my words;
But the more I speak the more I keep on hearing the same thing.
At nights I lay down on the carpet and cry something rougher.
I've been loved in the shallows of the deepest lake and you make my love something tougher.
But I still remember what it was like swimming through days where the daze carried on from day to day to day to day.
I remember being sick to my stomach watching you be born, and my goodbyes keep on outnumbering my hellos.
Walking down the long road down to the shore of the lighthouse in the night, I found the sand.
The course grain on my soft skin - I make a fist and I stare down the stars.
When I let it go nothings there.
When I let go nothings there.
I still stare you down on that pale night, fear and passion light your eyes, the only form that was ever fine.
It took some time, but I've found your form in every form, and your blood in my blood too.
And in the emptiness of hiding and waiting and never being found --
I won't be lonely in freedom,
You've taught me to be never harsh in love.