| My mind wonders with no map | |
| I have no route no point | |
| I daydream | |
| My mind wonders with no map | |
| And real life colours 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 some side of me | |
| That's plain and rich full and lovely and hidden | |
| Plain and full of colours ' | |
| Cause I have all the words in me | |
| Words I've never heard before | |
| I try to pick up what sleeps | |
| I try to pick up what slips through your mouth | |
| And find that my own words are so dull and empty | |
| I desist, | |
| I quit, I don't know | |
| Answers to questions you | |
| You make, you wait |