| When I ask who I am
|
| I ask it just of you
|
| And you look at me puzzled
|
| Saying, what am I to do?
|
| If I don’t know the one thing
|
| I need to give you help
|
| The simple unheard knowing
|
| Of who I am myself
|
| I won’t ask again
|
| It would not be good
|
| To know what only
|
| Those who’ve earned it would
|
| And then I ask you where
|
| I’ll go when eyes are shut
|
| For one night or one moment
|
| Or ever ever but
|
| How can you let me in
|
| On secrets secrets or
|
| Give me the smallest clue
|
| As to what living is for
|
| I won’t ask again
|
| It would not be good
|
| To know what only
|
| Those who’ve earned it would
|
| No I won’t raise the thought
|
| Cause quietly I’ll go
|
| Where you go right with me
|
| And quietly we maybe will just know |