If I'd fit on the windowsill 
I'd plant myself in your direction 
I would use the sun's energy 
To make this place your destination 

How dare I hate this space I occupy 
I'm left to my devices 
Turning to the light 
I'm waiting for the cue 
To beckon to the shoot 
And break the crust upon the soil 

Lack of light the iris expands 
My eyes absorb a power coming 
From beyond my dim room 
In my den amber and damp 
As if lit up by faith alone 
I've been more faithful than you know