I built a house in your arms

I built a house in your arms, stole it from our love and took it to what I thought was the old desert. I was trying to sing amazing grace all the way to the Swiss banks of the soul, but all I did was sweat. You reported me to the Great Commission before I hit a clean note. I went back to the friends you once tamed me of and got fat and drunk. That got boring real quick. So now I’m back to what they call square one. Some days it seems like a valid option. At least you don’t live in fear of getting ahead of yourself.