Pacific

If I could rearrange my words I'd say what I mean If I could learn to count the cards I'd risk everything

Imagine how brave I'd be If I knew I was safe If I could only know the end I'd be a prodigy of faith

If I had a treasure map Oh, the answers I'd find I'd dust off the artifacts 'Til I made 'em all shine

Everything I know is borrowed, broken or blind And what I've seen of beautiful feels merely implied Is it the treatment of symptoms or a touch of divine? I guess the truth is that the truth is of complex design

How I ache to know

God knows that I know we're little boats in the great big sea Setting sail after sail in the hopes of finding a breeze

Every compass I have followed I've trusted and denied So it goes with an ever-changing definition of right Is it the treatment of symptoms or a touch of divine? I guess the truth is that the truth is of complex design

If ignorance is bliss, then I guess I'm in heaven But this hesitant kiss sends me back to the grasp of the sea

Setting sail after sail in the hopes of finding a breeze