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When you wake in the morning |
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Does it feel like a warning bell has rung? |
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Are you having fun? |
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When you gaze out your window |
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Does it faze or envelope you? |
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Have you lost your sight? |
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Or is it just too bright to see? |
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I think you've got a thinly veiled directive |
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But I can't be sure of your intent so I elect to |
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Hold my tongue I'm not the only one who |
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Sees in your sketches the lonely number one |
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I think I got a fairly unique perspective |
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But I would hesitate to offer up new direction |
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This compass of mine has a mind of it's own |
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Always searching for a new sturdy heart to come home |
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When you crash for the evening |
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Do you laugh, do you feel things? |
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Does it cross your mind |
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When you cross the line? |
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When you dream is it simple , |
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Or is it calm, is it visible? |
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Does it make a spark? |
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Does it leave a mark? |
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You think I got a thinly veiled directive |
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But you can't be sure of my intent |
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So you elect to hold your tongue |
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You're not the only one who |
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Sees in these sketches |
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The lonely number one |
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I think you got a fairly unique perspective |
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But I would hesitate to ask for new direction |
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That compass of yours points to a distant shore |
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I got a home and a hearth with a woman I adore |
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And so long, ooohh |
