Home in my Arms.

Remember when it rained and you found shelter in my arms; you said it felt like home?
Well, ever since you’ve been gone, I’ve been an empty house. I’m all furnished for no one. All that lives here are the memories that haunt me. You once stood where the curtains blow in the wind. My arms still feel the weight of you.
Oh, Babe; won’t you come home?  Were my arms so fragile that your home caved in and exposed you to the world?  Can we rebuild that stronghold again?
Oh, Love; it doesn’t have to be this way. If we just say we loved, loving, love; maybe you will stay.
Some may say we’re the lucky ones to love and have lost; but I’m no good without you.  No, I don’t smile bright and my arms are set down; hands clenched.
If you walked right on through, don’t you know they’d open like doors for you?
When I spoke of love, did I speak to soon? Should I have kept my mouth shut like a good girl ought to?
If you feel it in your heart and it invades your mind, then you know it’s true.
You needed to travel roads and I just wanted a home and my guitar to play along with you.
Some may say we were just on the corner of the street under road light. The beauty of me stopping didn’t prevent me from going for you.
If ever you need a place to rest your head, may my chest be comfort to you. When the world gets to cold, may my body bring you warmth. My home is always welcome you. Yes, you are always welcome to me.