The Storm

I'm the thinnest rack of bones you'll ever repair
Frozen like old lost January prayers
Prayers to see where we might go
Desperation pressing me down below

My feet are wet, my hands are dry
You stand against the frigid skies
Take your hands and press them here
Feel my pulse; it's loud and clear

Use your heart to keep me warm
Cover me up before the storm

Six weeks left of bitter chill
Of tight strained breaths; of fake-ass thrills
Could you ever want me? Should I even ask?
Or take these hasty feelings, and let them slowly pass

No space to sing, no space to smile
No way to make this season worthwhile
And as your hands come closer still
I do not move, by strength of will

Use your heart to keep me warm
Cover me up before the storm
Use your heart to keep me warm
Cover me up before I...
Lose it all
Lose it all
Lose it all
Lose it all
Lose my chance.

I need you.