what you try to say to me
i'm sorry, i don't always hear.
our imperfect understanding
makes my intentions so unclear.
it's not that i don't listen;
i'll always answer when you call.
but don't be surprised to hear
that's not what i meant at all.

and i wish i could be a fly on the wall of your heart.
i wish i could be a fly on the wall of your heart.
i wish i could be a fly on the wall of your heart.
maybe i could keep us from falling...
falling apart

it seems our best friends are strangers
when the pretty little things we hold in our hands
can so much attract us, distract us
that i lose track of who i am.
my doubts and fears confound me,
but i'm doing the best that i can.
the voice of doubt still whispers,
"do you love me because or in spite of who i am?"

don't you ever stop to listen to nothing at all?