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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