With what you’ve got, you make me laugh
And sing with all my might,
And you are both my rod and staff
And lead me through the night.
Without your touch, I’d fall apart;
It’s tender and yet firm.
I’d take a bullet to the heart
Before I’d watch you squirm.
Although you know my arms are weak,
You’re happy being held
And hang on every word I speak,
Regardless how it’s spelled.
Although I can’t believe you’re true,
I’m glad to say I know you’re you.
Photo by Rachel McDermott on Unsplash
