Notes

Inside the heart endures a labor

searching for faith in dreams,

pining for someday something greater

than all these other things.

​

Inside my heart burns a fire

-- the kind that melts you all away --

from the heat of another's desires

that I stole so I could have my way.

​

Inside my heart there turn decisions;

tumbling altogether the choices I make

until there's no telling what's real from visions

of all of my mistakes.

​

Sometimes my heart feels like a river

the kind that moves with a mind of it's own.

It asks for things I can't ever deliver

and still somehow hopes you might come home.

​

Inside my heart continues toil;

reaping what I've put down.

But you just can't get much from the soil

and good luck getting love out of the ground.

​

Every time you feel like trying

to fix what you do wrong

that's when you feel like crying

or singing some stupid song.

​

So although my heart aches

I've never minded

to destroy what I want

to have provided.

So if you find love in me

you'd better hide it

else one day I'm liable

to find it.

​

In my heart I understand why you're gone.

I know just what you've run from.

If I could change anything

I'd keep you away from me.

And though I know redemption is earned

I wish I could've given you the love you deserved.

​

In every heart lingers a question

the kind whose structure will always change.

No matter which answer you mention

the response will be the same.

​

Some night you'll ask another

what is all of this for?

They'll tell you some thing, or some other

but nothing you didn't know before.

​

Maybe someday you'll find some meaning --

Suppose it mightn't be the first.

Then you might know that feeling's fleeting

and wonder why you can't help that thirst.

​

When you're finally all done asking

and all the good things are gone

that's when it starts feeling like harassing

when your heart says to go on.

​

You'll have nightmares in your slumber,

when you wake you'll dream.

And in your dreams you'll wander

and in your nightmares you'll see:

All the things you've done

laid before you one by one.

And when you wake, entirely,

you'll find you still can't help but run.

​

Soon you'll find, the life you're living

won't be the one, you used to know.

But for some things, you're not forgiven

and some others you can't let go.

​

One day I'll find the strength to

open my heart, or to try.

Until then, though, all I can do

is to sing this song and cry.

​