You were the seeker Then you found there's nothing to find It'll all come down to you in its own good time No one's the older No one's the wiser No one cares When every step takes you from nowhere Going from somewhere to here
Your quiet eyes almost vacant There's no need to explain The fine line between stealing and giving In the landscape of the saint
You were the dreamer Who got lost in your escape When beauty became a prison You found your freedom in the mundane
So when will I see what you see You say it's got nothing to do with being worthy When will I see what you see
When you've gone and lost What you thought you never had And you're numb with the fear That it's never coming back It makes no difference It's gonna be what it's gonna be Sometimes the purest gold comes from The hands of a thief
So when will I see what you see You say it's got noting to do with being worthy When will I see what you see When will I see what you see.