Every morning I open the curtains,

On the windows to my soul.

Sometimes I have to brush away the dirt 

That's left upon the sill.

I roll down the blinds 

Because it's too bright, 

And I slowly twist them open.

The windows to my soul are blue.

They're ringed with navy,

And speckled with gold.

Blue and grey and green,

Like rolling waves of the seas.

The windows to my soul are deep,

You have to look hard to see what’s inside.

But sometimes I open them,

And it's easy to tell if I've laughed or cried.

The windows to my soul let me see the world.

I can see out but they can't see in,

It's one-way glass where I have hidden.

The windows to my soul leak sometimes

Salty sweet rivers that leave salty streaks behind,

Hot and cold at the same time.

I look through my windows to my soul,

I see other windows.

Some windows are open,

Others locked up tight.

I long to see into all of them.

I long to know what’s inside.

As I look at their windows I realize,

That though you can see through them,

Your only way in is through a door.