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