Fingernails worn to the bone from excavating only mud,nWhat good would fossils be if fossils dont prove anything..nI'm searching, I'm searching, I'm searching for something to find me.nnYou turn at the green light facing everything with it could be's,nLeaving dead behind you the debris,nU-turn at the stop signs, it's always better than standing still,nGiving up the shovel for the key,nnSo we followed, we opened, the doors, the doors,nWe've splintered, we've opened, the doors, the doors.nnMan's search for meaning is more than living, but understanding why.nMan's search for meaning is not believing but understanding why.nnStiffening when rigor mortis sets in, pushes you deeper into your grave,nReminding you of all the questions that you have, and all the answers never made.nnFingernails worn to the bone from excavating only mud,nWhat good would fossils be if fossils dont prove anything..nI'm searching, I'm searching, I'm searching for something to find me.nnYou turn at the green light facing everything with it could be's,nLeaving dead behind you the debris,nFollowing and opening yet wondering where doors could take us,nContinue splintering.nnAlways digging, finding nothing, understanding why.n(we followed, we opened, the doors, the doors,nWe've splinered. we've opened, the doors, the doors)nnU-turn at the stop signs- it's always better than standing still,nGiving up the shovel for the key.