I took a trip into my eye and there’s something hiding there
It’s a belief which I’ve held all my life and now it’s laying threadbare
I want to get my broken fixed and I’m throwing wide the door
There’s a deep-down part of me which knows there’s something more
More than what can be seen
More than what I can reach out and feel
More than what can be repeatably measured
More than what you might hear is for real
I am just a lonely boy with a penchant for dark and doubt
And I’ve noticed that I lack the joy that makes the percipient shout
So maybe I’m missing a part of the puzzle that makes the devout complete
Maybe there’s something behind blind belief that can make a man land on his feet
Belief in a clockmaker being…
And doing and speaking and seeing
And not disappearing right after the blast
To a holiday far away skiing
I’m ready-and no longer afraid
to call things as I see ‘em
I’m getting older and more crotchety, ...gonna’ put me in a museum
I can feel I’m slowly dying and I’m only thirty-nine
I remember a long-ago time when my spirit was doing just fine
But right now, my spirit is broken
I’ll cover the sadness with joking
The bus is about to pull-away
And I think that I’m missing my token
Speak! Where’ve you been?
Is it because of my sin?
Is it because of my bent?
How do I tune in?
Make my blind eyes see
Come, oh come & set me free
Show all the doubters those footprints you left
Oh what are you wanting with me?
Peace now, let there be peace
Don’t you see I need some release?
Surrounded by kind folks, but lonely as hell
I’m needing to do something, and do it well,
I’m wanting you, needing you, come here to dwell
In my heart, in my head, on my knees.
