Too many questions
  But no one seems to know
  The value of the answers
  Too many fingers and all pointed back at me
  Is it because I was the one who pointed mine first?
  I see a problem but maybe it's part of me
  Excuses without reasons
  I have a conscious inspiring to be
  More than a thought that's burning deep inside of me
    I see a doorway and I fumble for a key
  How many turns until it opens?
  And what will it reveal?
  I'm at the center, or is it left of me
  When will it open?
    On the surface, the smile evades the truth
  The words are even cheaper
  I ask for something impossible to give
  And sit back and watch it all go