The Script

you touched this tired eyes of mine
and mapped my face out line by line
and somehow growing old feels fine
I listen close for I'm not smart
you wrap your thoughts and works of art
and they're hanging on the walls of my heart
I may not have the softest touch
I may not say the words as such
and though I may not look like much
I'm yours
and though my edge is maybe rough
I never feel I'm quite enough
I may not seem like very much
but I'm yours
you healed these scars over time
and braced my soul you loved my mind
you're the only angel in my life
that day news came my best friend died
my knees were weak and you saw me cry
say I'm still the soldier in your eyes
and it may not seem like very much
but I'm yours
and though I don't fit in that much
but I'm yours.

- - -

I'm gooey.
Listen to me.
Or I'll cry.
Haha.