I found that old wood years ago Saw a table where nobody did I oiled every mark it carried Found the chairs that fit just right Hung the lights above it low Funny how you took the furniture And somehow took the whole damn glow And everybody sits there Like nothing ever moved Like a home is just a collection Of things somebody chose Now she sleeps beneath the covers I picked out Pulls my blanket to her chin Sits among the pillows I searched half the town for Like she’s always lived in them She lights candles in my holders Cuts her dinner with the knives That I bought you for a birthday Back when I still knew your life And I know they’re only objects I know that’s what I’m supposed to say But she’s living among pieces of me While I’m learning to give them away My children sit around that table And I know that’s how it should be They shouldn’t carry all the wreckage They shouldn’t have to grieve for me I’m grateful they can sit there God, I wish that I could too I don’t want my old life back That’s the strangest part of all I just hate to see somebody else Standing where I watched it fall You can keep the chairs You can keep the knives Keep the blanket, keep the lights But don’t tell me they’re just things When I chose them for our life Maybe that’s what hurts the most You didn’t build another home You carried pieces of the one I made And made them all your own She can sleep beneath the covers I picked out She can sit beneath those lights She can eat around the table Where we spent a thousand nights My children can sit beside her And I swear I want them free To love whoever they still love Without protecting me But somewhere in that apartment In every room she walks into There’s a woman she may never see In everything I chose for you They’re only things I know They’re only things But once they were a home.
