There’s a window in my house and I don’t dare care it is there.

It’s a window high atop my house where everything seems fair.

It’s a window broad and open as clear as night and day.

It’s a window I keep thinking of in each and every way.

There’s so much light to see it’s truthful and compelling and yet it’s tempting I must say to spin my soul through belly.
I want to teach myself of how to use it for my sanity
It’s obvious I’m not sharing it for its placidity

This window as you see it, can reflect your favorite color. Or call upon a bird, a shadow or perhaps a handsome fellow.

Inside, children are bustling, the noise is un-relenting
It echoes in my head and bounces from the panes still heckling.
It’s the window I keep gazing to just thinking should I might.
It’s not something I’m hoping for but preparing for the fight.

There’s a window in my house and I’m not sure you don’t know it.
You could have seen it in my face or I might not even show it.
That window has a shutter and lock and a white sill. It’s painted and its cleaned and it’s sitting very still. There’s a window in my house and it’s waiting to be opened. I’ve gone to it and pried on it and it’s still not with me still.

There’s a window in my house and my children just don’t know it. My soul and life surround it but my conscience will not sow it. The answer is untellable and just a tangling Fein. It’s shielding me from wind and storm and every drop between.
I just can’t bear to tell you there’s a window in my house,
It’s not yet been an opened and it’s just so soon to tell.

There’s a window in my house that is so unlike the others. You can’t see in it from the street and no one cares for bothers. It’s a window I don’t clean and I wouldn’t decorate. It’s not a place to hang a shade or pretty little curtain.
It’s in a sacred place that someday I regrettably won’t hesitate. It’s a place that brings me closer to a place of emptiness. It’s a sheet of glass between me and the place I dream to miss.

There’s a window in my house and I know just where it is. It’s right above the things I love and where I want to live.

There’s a window in this house and it’s just too big to miss. It’s weathered and it’s shiny still and is staring at this face. The window is the look you want but see a strange delight. To your regret, I must confess, beyond it is our life.