There are no answers in the pages Endless lines where we wait And our hands plow the furrows Sketching lines on our face And I long for you Down roads they'd walk me through But I have grown tired, Tired of endless guessing My love, I look for you There are no answers in these pages Only lines where we wait And I stuff my ears to listen Close my eyes to your gaze Do I cast my lots with all, All I have known? Do I refuse the call That brings me back home? And I've tossed and turned upon these questions I've piled like stones to throw I raise my arm, you raise the invitation: To be loved is to know