Too many questions
But no one seems to know
The value of the answers
Too many fingers and all pointed back at me
Is it because I was the one who pointed mine first?
I see a problem but maybe it's part of me
Excuses without reasons
I have a conscious inspiring to be
More than a thought that's burning deep inside of me
I see a doorway and I fumble for a key
How many turns until it opens?
And what will it reveal?
I'm at the center, or is it left of me
When will it open?
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On the surface, the smile evades the truth
The words are even cheaper
I ask for something impossible to give
And sit back and watch it all go
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