I´d like to know what makes you stay while your eyes still search for escape.
You think that I don´t feel the cold, but I wait while confessions unfold.
You´ll never make a living from reading minds
or from getting your direction from exit signs.
Look into your heart and you won´t find me there.
You won´t find me where you hide and that makes us a matter of time.
Like trees exposed by fall, time reveals it all.
Tell me you want to do everything but you´re stuck up to your knees.
And I´m less likely pushed forward by ambition than a breeze.
But there´s a flame that must be fanned, and it appears as a beckoning hand.
Don´t think ´cause you´re not talking you´re being kind,
you´ve been getting your direction from exit signs.
Look into your heart and you won´t find me there.