Take me away.
Lead me to a little house
on a hill, picket fence
enclosing the fresh lush garden.
Lead me to the front door.
Let's make this our home.
We'll lie in the meadows
during Sunday afternoon picnics.
Children's laughter chiming,
while I'm wrapped in your kisses,
embraced in your warmth.
Let's make this our home.
When the rain storms down
on the roof ahead, and
our frustrated words like
lightning darts around the room.
Open your arms and forgive me.
Let's make this our home.
