Borrowed Breath

There's silence in my fishing town With nothing but the wind To shake the walls of my wooden house And beg me to let it in The salty air whips my hair around My pale and weathered skin As I sit and wait by the old lighthouse For the storm clouds to roll in The storm clouds to roll in I'm weathered and worn but my house is still Standing against the wind And whether I'm torn from the sky I'll still Know when the night begins I cast my net into the deep blue Which now reflects the stars A reminder of a deeper truth That which we hold is not ours On borrowed breath I whistle a tune A tune that beckons sleep And memories of my mothers arms Not even memories will we keep Not even memories will we keep I'm weathered and worn but my house is still Standing against the wind And whether I'm torn from the sky I'll still Know when the night begins Breathe in lean back into the arms of rest Exhale slowly and turn to face the west I'm weathered and worn but my house is still Standing against the wind And whether I'm torn from the sky I'll still Know when the night begins I'm weathered and worn but my house is still Standing against the wind And whether I'm torn from the sky I'll still Know when the night begins