Little Houses - Lorne Balfe

This is where we fall, sleepers scattered in the soil A finger deep, dragged through the ground A blessed thought in harrowed halls. We could think of nothing else but what our patch of earth contained, Reminded by our dirt-stained clothes of planted possibility In tender ground, as bare as birth, a shoot emerged from beneath the earth. Mary, Mary, tell me how your garden grows. Tell me what it takes to come alive, to see what you have sown Because I've grown into the ground and there are branches in my bones I am overgrown. Between two branches, a rope and tire we cast between two worlds, Each one higher than the last. I chose the air, chose higher still and left an Eden, found, But in abandon, lost my grip, and shattered, chose the ground In unkept chaos, as bare as birth, a garden, grey, of tangled earth. I've been lying here too long, the branches pushing me apart where weakness showed, But then September swept the overcast aside, Dusted off the winter's curse, and she cut me through like knives. She whistled proudly her season's song and showed me that I was alive all along.

Wandering, weightless I'm empty, I'm faded Stumbling, nameless I'm falling, failing, faithless I won't fade away to nothing If I say a prayer for someone Who'll say a prayer for me When I ask myself, if the life I lead's The price I have to pay? If I gave away the ending Who'd save the day for me When I ask myself, if the life I lead's The price I have to pay? Freezing, frameless I'm tempting fate with Saying nothing I won't fade away to nothing I won't fade away to nothing If I say a prayer for someone Who'll say a prayer for me When I ask myself, if the life I lead's The price I have to pay? If I gave away the ending Who'd save the day for me When I ask myself, if the life I lead's The price I have to pay? I'm wandering, I'm weightless I'm failing, I'm faithless Descending to madness I'm taken for granted I'm wondering and worthless Deserving, deserted Defeated, defended Forgive me Forget it If I say a prayer for someone Who'll say a prayer for me When I ask myself, if the life I lead's The price I have to pay? If I gave away the ending Who'd save the day for me When I ask myself, if the life I lead's The price I have to pay?

Father, we fled your house of grey We ran from home to seek a place Where our bodies would never grow Dreamer, child, be cautious of this world She has an appetite for boys and girls And she's hungry for your soul Little boys with dreams of paper planes Were never meant to scrape the sky Keep your feet on the ground kid Only birds were meant to fly Little boys with dreams of paper planes Were never meant to scrape the sky Keep your head from the clouds kid Keep your wings, always keep them by your side Remember, before you fly, you'll fall Before you walk, you'll crawl Before you fly, you'll fall Before you walk, you'll crawl You've no need to stitch your shadow to your heels No, not this time Son, you'll walk with no whisper, no sound Only the feet of the heavy-hearted are held to the ground You've no need to draw the curtains, son, throw them wide Cross the borders between the never-ending night Find the twinkle in your smile Chase it on 'til morning Past the second star to the right Little boys with dreams of paper planes Were never meant to scrape the sky Keep your feet on the ground kid Only birds were meant to fly Little boys with dreams of paper planes Were never meant to scrape the sky Keep your head from the clouds kid Keep your wings, always keep them by your side We'll be the smoke curling on the still The airship captains, we wait for sun to brush the hills Son, I share your windward dreams To soar from this little town of shacked up windows And swinging doors (swinging doors) The rafters creak and the floorboards groan While the shadows dance to the tapping of my toes There's nothing left for us but altitude We'll be the kings of the air (there's nothing left for us here, there's nothing left for us here) There's nothing left for us but altitude We'll be the kings of the air (we'll be the kings of the air) Stolen by the wind that turns the leaves to razors Holding just a string, our twine and our paper lost to the breeze Stolen by the wind that turns the leaves to razors Holding just a string, our twine and our paper lost to the breeze