I promise I will lie you an alibi
when you are too old to be a hero --
I'll keep the lockpicks you confiscate
and come to rescue you when you continue to claim
you do not need a savior;
I'll be yours
until you forget you need me.
We will get older as we age --
all things do, and we aren't,
no matter how hard we wish,
any different;
we will have keys to all the same locks
and rings for them we'll buy
so we don't forget where we have been when we're
together and apart.
I have offered you everything
that I had left to give --
from wingtip to wingtip and
heartbeat to heartbeat;
without you I'm alone.
I can't draw breath without you near:
I'm alive but half my heart is missing;
if you'll come back to me,
I promise
I'll be yours, give you another half
so you can have the whole and leave me lacking.
I won't tell you you're fragile
I know how you hate that
I'll tell you the truth instead:
I find myself in need of you --
the calm I've found is getting boring
and I want your chaos back again.
I cannot promise I won't change
but I can tell you this:
I will be yours, if you'll be mine;
you are my home, my certainty --
if you'll return the favor I'll
be yours, as long as you'll have me.
So come home, if it please you --
I won't ask you much, but I'll ask this:
when you come home tonight,
make it to me.
