After The Fire
Silk Piston
We walked through the ashes where our home used to stand
Your hand in my pocket, the ring still on your hand
The neighbors all staring, but we don’t give a damn
After the fire, I still am your man
The photographs burned but I see them so clear
Your laugh in the kitchen, your whisper in my ear
We’ll build it again from the smoke and the sand
After the fire, I still am your man