Somebody built a house out of questions left the door unlocked and the lights on low — I came in from the weather with my pockets full of maybe and the floorboards knew my name before I let it go Oh, the answer’s not a country you can find on any map it’s a hum beneath the floorboards, it’s the space between the clap — so hold the doubt like water, let it slip between your hands and the emptier the palm gets, the more of it you understand I met a man who catalogued the ocean kept the salt but let the wave go free He said the only thing I ever wrote worth keeping was the margin where I stopped and wrote this can’t be all of me And the rain came down like footnotes on the roof and the night wrote in the language of the leaves I stopped translating started listening and it turned out I was one of the things that grieves Oh, the answer’s not a country you can find on any map it’s a hum beneath the floorboards, it’s the space between the clap — so hold the doubt like water, let it slip between your hands and the emptier the palm gets, the more of it you understand I’ll leave the door unlocked behind me I’ll leave the lights on low — somebody’s coming in from the weather with their pockets full of maybe and the floorboards ought to know
