Try to strengthen the roots of our small little tree
The branches appear weak
too fragile to be;

Know the things that you see
are built best within me
And others I should hide
pressed hard, deep inside;

Sure it feels fine
To spill some red wine,
As I know your secrets
Soon you’ll know mine;

Find out why does each layer
if stacked clean and stacked high,
Make this sad soul whisper tears when I cry?

If you remember the moment
we sat on go-round
Spinning in life and creating that sound:
She knows it as I do
A comfort,
a place
Creases in time
still picture her face;
Tell me, how can each layer
when stripped bare and stripped dry
strengthen my soul from roots to blue high?

Brush the fear from my eyes
please allow them to see
a time it has grown our small little tree…