Bricks plucked from your walls

Why must there remain so many old codes to decode?
Attitudes change even on a strong steady base that's what we call a mode.
All that has happened to your young past has caused you to start building.
A wall of hard hard bricks.
A red rectangular stone.
How would we talk If I answered the phone?
We both are in a common bond on other lines alone.
All along I play the role as the destroyer man knocking on this wall.
Even if to hurt my pride a bit so what many of us fall.
This time I'll sit back a bit.
Never to again crawl.
As these big bricks are plucked I see light beyond them in you.
Am I slowly getting to know you?
Who can I be I'd like to start to show you.