| A few years, that’s all it took
|
| To lose all sense of direction
|
| A small god, like a balinese child
|
| And your sense of entitlement was electric
|
| Now the moon is up and your worn down
|
| From dissecting, directing and defining your life
|
| So you get up, to go out, to give in, to your doubts
|
| With your white man moaning barely locked up inside
|
| And the caveman and the caved man finally found a way to steer
|
| And there she was, jumping, in a puddle of our dreams
|
| She took you in and you tried your best
|
| To ignore the dog scratching the door
|
| But the moon is up and you’re worn out
|
| So you get up, to go out, to give in, to your doubts
|
| ‘Cause you have pedestals to build, and you have holes to fill
|
| Still you’re hiding from your lows, afraid of heights, you’ll never know
|
| That she rewrote her nightmare and you can’t even remember your own dreams
|
| You just wake up, longing, for a love you could lose
|
| ‘Cause you’re nothing, You’re nothing without a woman’s touch
|
| You’re nothing, You’re nothing without her foot in the door
|
| And I meant nothing, I meant nothing with the words I said
|
| But I meant everything, I meant everything with the love I gave |