Wait all week
for the day off of your dreams
you've been getting through
with the weekend in view
and those songs on repeat
but something's off key
and the record is stuck
because your own company
kicks you right in the gut.
Why do I feel scared
when I spend this time alone?
Not when I'm out and about
just when I'm at home.
My house imprisons me in fear,
encaged when no-one else is here,
yet perfectly able to escape
just no desire to volunteer.
The door is closed
latch is on
but I told you
what you're running from
is what you need exposure to,
just spend time being with you.
It seems her sole ambition
to master drama in the kitchen
appears to calm
and does no harm
so meets no opposition.
Her whimsy is to rally
with some street moves in the galley
shoulder lock and pop
a no stop body drop;
her over-act to Spandau Ballet.
You can almost see disco lights
flashing frenzy every night
portable, set up in haste
because this move's too good to waste.
And in her pure, uncensored state,
she's a lot to take in
but sorta hard to hate
when you're living
with it day in
day out
you find you can't do without
busting a move
to some retro tune,
finding your groove
to guilty auto-tune,
or total lip sync
to eighties synth,
or out of control
air drum to Toto.
And somewhere between
the green
of a golden oldie on karaoke
and the concrete fear of tears
to Tears for Fears
you see the unseen
inside
fly on the wall
of what makes her tick
when she's feeling so small
and you realise you don't mind at all.
So anytime you hear that doubt
battering against the bars, screaming to get out,
don't give in and believe the lies
the enemy
tries to disguise
and instead believe the truth
of what God tells you
about who you are
and what He's done for you.
No fear can compete
with Love so complete; a perfect sound that surrounds,
a grace that abounds
so freely that I've found
I'm compelled to move my feet
and take my dancing to the streets.
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