If words were our waters, I want to believe that it rained If time was an open bid, I want to believe that I payed And if sleep kept us wide awake, I want to believe that I dreamt If trust was the end of the road, I want to remember the way I want to believe that I payed If touch was the summer sand, a desert glued to wet skin Then I'd savor its residue, and find what it means to have lived If our memory was a crime, I want you to make me a thief And if thought was an open wound, I want to believe that I want to believe that it healed I want to believe that I payed I want to believe that I payed And I'm crying Crying out Want to believe it See it all I want to believe that I payed I want to believe that I payed I want to believe that I payed