Borrowed Walls

The faucet drips at night A rhythm I can't quiet Your shadow moves in the hallway It used to be softer There's a storm behind your eyes I don't ask about Maybe I don't wanna know If it's me you're leaving The mirror in the bedroom Still has the crack from last spring You said you'd fix it But I guess we both forgot The garden's overgrown You stopped pulling the weeds And I stopped asking why When the floorboards give way When the ceiling comes down We can still drive out to Chef's House There's room enough for silence there Room enough for whatever's left We'll sit by the window Watch the tide erase the shore If it all falls apart We'll still have Chef's House I found your coat on the porch today It smelled like rain and distance The air between us stretches thin Fragile, unbearable You light a cigarette and don't look at me The smoke says more than your mouth We both pretend not to notice When the floorboards give way When the ceiling comes down We can still drive out to Chef's House There's room enough for silence there Room enough for whatever's left We'll sit by the window Watch the tide erase the shore If it all falls apart We'll still have Chef's House The dishes pile up Each plate bearing a question I wash them slowly Watching my reflection bend in the water How many lives can one house hold How many before it collapses You'll pack your things And I won't say stop Maybe I'll follow Maybe I'll stay But Chef's House I'll dream of it tonight Four walls and nothing between us But space to remember