Slowly I move across the room. Where are you?
Silently I cry trying to decide. Who are you?
All these things I've shown you more or less,
are all the things I know to be the best.
It's what I do.
Here, closely we lay, mostly to wait for some room.
Then vacantly we speak, empty and weak.
How are you?
All these things you've shown me go against
all the things we know to be the best.
So what'd I do? Tell me. If it's not me...
It's you.
How do you want me to be?
What can I do to make you happy?
What do you want me to say?
When I speak the truth you take it your own way.
All these things I've shown you more or less,
are all the things I've known to be the best.
It's what I do.
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