Weakerthans lyrics this is a fire door never leave open lyrics

Headlights race towards the corner of the dining room. Half

illuminate a face before they disappear. You breathe in forty

years of failing to describe a feeling. I breathe out smoke

against the window, trace the letters in your name. Our

letters sound the same; full of all our changing that isn't

change at all. All straight lines circle sometime. You

said "Somewhere there's a box full of replacement parts to all

the tenderness we've broken or let rust away. Somewhere

sympathy is more than just a way of leaving. Somewhere

someone says 'I'm sorry.' Someone's making plans to stay."

So tell me it's okay. Tell me anything, or show me there's a

pull, unassailable, that will lead you there, from the dark,

alone, benevolence that you've never known, or you knew

when you were four and can't remember. Where a small knife

tears out those sloppy seams, and the silence knows what

you silence means, and your metaphors (as mixed as you

can make them) are linked, like days, together. I still hear

trains at night, when the wind is right. I remember

everything, lick and thread this string that will never mend

you or tailor more than a memory of a kitchen floor, or the

fire-door that we kept propping open. And I love this place;

the enormous sky, and the faces, hands that I'm haunted by,

so why can't I forgive these buildings, these frameworks

labeled "Home"?