| 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 |