This simple verse, those four letter words,
standing as if they're the obvious answer,
as if they were meant to suffice.
And there's that look in my direction,
like you were created to save me,
as if the only thing that could help is your advice.

All I can say is, it doesn't.
What I can tell you is, it won't.
I climb the tips of mountain peaks daily,
screaming out your name -
so sure that you'll hear me.
All I can say is, you don't.

These repeated ideas, 
running in circles through my brain.
Repetitive ideas,
leaving railways in my mind.
These same ideas,
they're leaving highways where they came.
Take that old principle,
make it a traffic sign.
These laws that cycle through,
old as time.