you can build a firm foundation on everything you own but those hands cannot claim their craftsmanship without the builder of their bones behind every builder is a builder built out of mortar and stone and that dust can construct a house that creaks and groans but he cannot make it a home well ive been searching for a plot of land to put my hand to the plow ive got a lot of friends out there that say its all about the south well georgia was gorgeous until i hit oregon so i dont know about that now but ive been searching for answers to questions that have yet to be answered or maybe just yet to be found ive got a newfound friend in north carolina i sat on her back porch for a week and a half and smoked cigarettes with her mom she stared down at that cancer stick in her mouth as she packed her next round said it helps me think better well maam my problem is that i think too much and all of this chain smoking leads to chains of thought that i cant turn off now how can you help me with that but im finally getting to quitting smoking cigarettes two years after the two packs of 27s that i talked about two years ago in my poems and yet there are rolling hills just south of san francisco where 580 intersects with the aqueduct and my last match could set a fire ablaze and leave the valley looking like my lungs and id stand on the side of highway and watch it burn watch it light up the sky watch it burn like the fire that you said you saw in my eyes it burns for you i met a man who said he knew that passion too but hes got coals in his eyes where the light burned out he scared that hes the one who doused it its something hes always thinking about you can see it in his countenance you can see it in his doubt you can see it in his temper when he tries to let the pressure out he shouts when it comes time for you to settle down make sure that shes the one cause ive got a wife in a house my kids call their home but they dont know what weve become and he smiles and it looks like sadness says he still loves the lord but hes wondering where the time goes and if the lord loves him anymore just down the street from his apartment building is a house that weeps for him we friends that called it a home and invited everybody in singing solace we are a broken family at least we can sing with sincerity solace we are a honest home puts away her keys makes her way past the gargoyles guarding her porch from the street shes got her rain boots on she saves them for days like these sings i hate this rainy weather she laughs and she thinks of me shes got her rain boots on polka dotted pink against the leaves sets her thoughts to thoughts of god friendships and family jesus i drove to joplin missouri with mourning in my bones and we all are decomposing houses but i think you make us a home i am an accumulation of sticks and stones and words and as it were im prone to wander lord i know im prone to wander off on my own well ive been searching for a plot of land to plant my seed and grow but great mystery of all the places ive been youre the only peace ive ever known so be it ever so humble theres no place like home but home is not where the heart is my heart is a home and where you go i will follow where you go i will follow so solace we are a broken family at least we can sing with sincerity solace we are an honest home we are not afraid of the darkness there are cracks in every house its not houses were worried about we are not afraid of the darkness there are imperfections in our home shadows in our souls we are not afraid of the dark there is no place for the lampshade that covered up my heart we are not afraid of the dark matchless flames we matches made out of one single spark we are not afraid of the dark