Oh I've gone and done it again:
Gone two hundred miles
when I should've gone ten.

Brought you mounds of baggage,
and asked you to tend
Forgot how to behave
with a confusing kind of friend.

And no one can catch you
with your back against the wall.
No one can say no
and you never start to fall.

And it doesn't get any better
and it doesn't go away,
And when I say come home you say,
this is no safe place.

And if I'll be the wind
I'll learn to move along
And people must be something more
than things I want.

People step in slowly,
they're slow to say too much.
And people love at arm's length;
I love the things I clutch.

Folks can shut a door
to keep the wind outside.
Love rushes up
and I flay it into sight.

And it starts to simmer,
it's supposed to warm the ngiht.
But instead it shows our faces
in a really harsh light.

And you say that I should learn
how to stay still.
Learn to want my life
and feel it burn in me and swell.

Well I think you should let the wind in,
watch it rush in fast.
But everything is brighter
when in knows it cannot last.

And if I'll be the wind
I'll learn to move along
And people must be something more
than things I want.

People step in slowly,
they're slow to say too much
And people love at arm's length;
I love the things I clutch.