Do you stare at the ceiling long after you turn out the light?
You're not afraid of the dark, but you know that the shadows offer a good number of places to hide.
Where do you reconcile your faith in fate with its fatalistic downside?
Does the truth lie in the middle, or has it, too, found somewhere better to hide?
You told me once everything was okay, and now I'm pretty sure that you lied.
Do I thank you or resent you? I don't think I could ever decide.
Do you search for answers in fossils or in books?
Have you learned to recognize those little telling looks?
The truth is that when you slammed the door, the entire foundation shook.
Everybody knows what we came here for, so it's a race now just to be the best crook.
The newspaper's a decoy, the TV's a tractor beam.
Off on a wild goose's chase to find just where we fell apart at the seams.
Are you apprehensive to read between the lines?
As if it were a insult to the many brilliant minds.
I strung together those words as if to tell you everything was gonna be fine.
Well, everything is gonna be fine.