my mind wanders with no map i have no route, no point, i daydream my mind wanders with no map and real life colors seem washed out
my eyes see things of a secret nature i resist from trying to understand i tear the pages of my past
to recall what you think you thought you wanted every yesterday is empty and no tomorrow will hold what you carry with yourself today, i carry with myself today no route, no point, no map
my eyes see things of a secret nature and i think if i find a word, i will unlock the past as if a morning could wake up inside of me thats plain and rich, full and lonely and hidden... plain and full of colors
cause i have all the words in me, words ive never heard before i try to pick up what sleeps i try to pick up what slips through your mouth
and i find that my own words are so dull and empty i desist, i quit, i dont know answers to questions you make, you wait...