Lyric

A homestay begins. The door opens slow

An elderly couple bows. "Welcome. Now — the rules."

"You must take off your shoes. You must follow each rule

You mustn't be late for dinner — seven, sharp

You have to finish your plate. There's a shower time limit, too

A guest is a member here." — the host was firm but warm

So many rules! Kai wrote them in a row

Bird whispered, "Should we run away tonight?"

Mina said, "No. Nothing here will hurt us — I know

A rule is advice that someone holds too tight."

You must say good morning. You should say good night

You have to answer carefully, and you mustn't hurt a feeling

Words are power. Words are light

A rule, in the end, is a kind of healing

Days went by. We entered the living room slow

And Mrs. told us stories of her precious youth

She kept every letter. She explained each photo

We felt each other's mornings. We shared one roof

On the last night, the host said, "Keep going, you three

In the future, you will make rules of your own

Make them soft. Make them doors, not walls, and see —

A rule made with love is how a home is grown."

We must say thank you. We should say it twice

We have to carry what this house was revealing:

Words are power. Words are light

A rule, in the end, was a way of feeling

Go to bed, the old clock said

Good night, good night. The rules are warm tonight