Some philosophies fuel a belief in the self,
Constructed to keep one's goods on one's own shelf
Built well you're a strong letter I,
With the feet on the ground and the head to the sky
Now and then you can bend,
It's okay to lean over my way
You fear that you can't do it all,
And you're right
Even diligent day takes relief every day
From it's work making light from the night

And when you're holding me
We make a pair of parentheses
There's plenty space to encase
Whatever weird way my mind goes,
I know I'll be safe in these arms

If something in the deli aisle makes you cry
You know I'll put my arm around you
And I'll walk you outside,
Through the sliding doors,
Why would I mind?

You're not a baby if you feel the world
All of the babies can feel the world That's why they cry