| Turn the page and go on, read the poetry wrong
|
| I expect your mistakes but by now it’s too late
|
| Straight in a line that you’ve drawn
|
| There we were face to face waiting each one for a taste
|
| While the selfish design in your eyes looked at mine
|
| Afraid to be sure not to waste
|
| Surely we can learn the truth about ourselves
|
| While each page you turn makes you someone else
|
| No matter how I might hope for the small things in life
|
| Like the things that make a reason for chasing what’s right
|
| Surely we can learn the truth about ourselves
|
| While each page you turn makes you someone else
|
| Turn the page and go on, read the poetry wrong
|
| I expect your mistakes but by now it’s too late
|
| Straight in a line that you’ve drawn
|
| There we were face to face waiting each one for a taste
|
| While the selfish design in your eyes looked at mine
|
| Afraid to be sure not to waste
|
| Surely we can learn the truth about ourselves
|
| While each page you turn makes you someone else
|
| No matter how I might hope for the small things in life
|
| Like the things that make a reason for chasing what’s right |