Hands Like Houses - A Definition Of Not-leaving

I wish I'd just stood and let the sun creep through me
Instead of my attempts to build slingshots
Spools and sinkers to bring in the sky
Inventions out of sticks and stones, a crown dusted off from beneath the bones
A white liar, protector of our hearts and homes

Stay, don't go
I'll eat you up, I love you so

I want you to follow and find me
Howl like its us and no-one else
We could keep out the sadness and stand so tall
We could run like wild things, and lie right where we fall