You talk too much.

Maybe that's your way

Of breaking up the silence

That fills you up.

But it doesn't sound the same

When no one's really listening



We stumble into our lives:

Reach for a hand to hold.

And any wonder

We need to find 

A certain something, certain.



Turn out the light

And what are you left with?

Open up my hands

And find out they're empty.

Press my face to the ground 

I've gotta find a reason.

Just scratching around 

For something to believe in:

Something to believe in.



You have too much.

You're spending all your time

Collecting and discovering

It's not enough.

And no matter how you try,

You never find the one you want.



We stumble into our lives:

Without a hand to hold.

And any wonder

We need to find 

A certain something, certain.



Turn out the light

And what are you left with?

Open up my hands

And find out they're empty.

Press my face to the ground 

I've gotta find a reason.

Still scratching around 

For something to believe in:

Something to believe in.



("mumbling" ??)



C'mon, c'mon [repeats til end]