Darling close the door, it cannot wait
This fragile thing I'm building cannot stand the light of day
Darling close the door, it cannot wait
One softly spoken word could be the death of me and all that I'm building up
I gather little pieces of our lives
And mend them with my needle and my thread until they look right
Hide them in the cellar in the dark
And hope their imperfections do not bother me when I cannot see their worth
Lend me your blind and foolish hope
We will both need it now, the seams begin to show
Follow me though you cannot see
And if we stumble now the fault belongs to me