With stones. Or bricks.
Always, always, always
I keep making my mind up
When the summer trees leave their green
My house is built for me, and you stand
Always, always
Always at the door.
Somewhere between my plastic heart
And elastic memories
My house rises, shatters, rises again
You stand at the door with your lips against my name.
I wear my skin inside out 
My heart is upside down
And my hair is everywhere
You sit at the door, with the eyes of a bird
You laugh without a care
I break the mirror with stones. Or bricks
Rip the canvas with a knife
The door stands metal cold 
Thanks for passing by.