[Intro] River clay beneath my nails, Mountain dust along my spine. You carved a word into my forehead; I woke between the strokes of time. [Verse 1] The kiln was cooling, coals gone red, The workshop smelled of rain and earth. You watched me rise beside the table, Unsure what my first breath was worth. A wooden bucket, cracked and waiting, A broom leaned crooked by the door. You said, “Stand watch, and keep us safe,” I wondered what a heart was for. [Pre-Chorus] The old letters burned behind my eyes, A command I could not quite obey. Then a sparrow nested in my shoulder, And I let it fly away. [Chorus] I was shaped to hold the doorway, Made to answer when you call. But the hand that lifts the fallen Does not have to be a wall. I can choose the path beside you, I can tend what time will leave. From the clay you gave a body, I made room enough to grieve. [Verse 2] I patched the roof before the thawing, Carried apples from the hill. The village children painted flowers On my arms and laughed until The rain ran blue down both my wrists; I kept the colors, kept their names. At dusk I stacked the firewood gently, Though my hands were built for heavier things. [Pre-Chorus] You called me stone when fear came near, Yet I stayed when your own courage fled. I kept the lamp beside your bedside And heard the words you never said. [Chorus] I was shaped to hold the doorway, Made to answer when you call. But the hand that lifts the fallen Does not have to be a wall. I can choose the path beside you, I can tend what time will leave. From the clay you gave a body, I made room enough to grieve. [Bridge] When your tools lie cold and quiet, When the bench is worn and bare, I will mend the garden border, Keep the gate unlatched with care. No carved sign can make me gentle, No old word can make me stay. I will stay because I choose to When the years have worn you gray. [Final Chorus] I was shaped to hold the doorway, Now I walk beyond the wall. I can guard the ones who need me, I can answer, I can call. I will carry all your stories, Keep the seeds you meant to sow. From the clay you gave a body, I chose what that body would know. [Outro] River clay beneath my nails, Mountain dust along my spine. You gave me hands to serve a purpose; I made them gently, wholly mine.
