You chose a house you loved, and it loved you. 
But cracks appeared, those marks that show how deep 
The weight of time becomes for all who hold 
Another's sorrows (triumphs) in their hearts. 

The rooms you've known, the shifting shadows of 
The days of grief, and nights of mania, 
These do grow dusty, needing time and care 
For tending never stops, or never should -- 

And if you're still, the echoes can rush in: 
The laughter and the wonder that is life -- 
The way the weary can lay down their head 
On someplace special, soft, and made for you -- 

  Or you can just move in to a new house, 
  And break the old foundation to its heart