I know a lot about closing doors, but not enough about what opens up yours...

Have a seat upon this branch of mine,
it's been a while, honey, I think I feel fine.
I see the questions mark a top your spine,
I've got a ladder, honey, won't you let me climb?
Tell me about your foreign wars and all
about the photographs that line your drawers.
'Cause I know a lot about closing doors,
but not enough about what opens up yours.

Oh my my, oh my stars,
everything you see is ours,
or it could be if you would try.
I wish you would, I wish you might.
If everything you've said to me has been true,
then all my stars are leading me to you.