Dear friend, just undress me - I am like glass in your hands. Write it down, wish it hard, slip the gate, and we'll run for the line. We go weak in the knees when we know how it's gonna end. And they don't know what we know, and they can't see what we see: all the things that could be. You come to split me in two - still never close enough, STOP on the lip of the world as we hail to the cosmic dust. We go weak in the knees when we know how it all will end. And they don't know what we know, and they can't see what we see: all the things that could be. They don't know what we know, and they can't see what we see. They don't know what we know, and they can't see what we see: all the things that could be.