My Lap is Always Your Chair

The walls will change

And the rooms and the doors,

Yes, things may look different

But it will be as before.

Walls are just walls.

A house isn’t a home when you take it apart

When it’s empty of everything

It’s missing its heart.

When we pack up the books, the hand prints and frames

You see – it’s a shell, it’s just not the same.

What matters is us.

We make a home – one, two, three, four

And with all of our things there it will be as before.

(We’ll paint it with laughter from ceiling to floor).

We’ll hang up our memories on the new hooks

We’ll sing the same songs, we’ll read the same books.

Yes, you’ll have a new room but you’ll fill it with you

A window’s a window; it just has a new view.

The floor will still be covered with trains

And your map will still have a bull over Spain.

The animals will still enjoy roaming the floor

It will be different and the same as before.

We’ll call this house home

And we’ll fill it with love.

And just so you know, wherever is there

My arms will be open

My lap always your chair.

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