Love is a question mark,
Life's in a shadow box,
God hides himself sometimes, inside a paradox,
And there may not ever be anything new here to say, but I'm fond of finding words that say it in a different way.

Does everybody want it nicely, lined up in little neat rows'
Does anybody know precisely just where the wild wind blows'
I can hand it to you brightly wrapped up in ribbons and bows.

We could dance the same old dances,
Learn all the same old ropes,
Roll out the same safe songs,
Tell all our tired jokes,
We've got some walls to climb,
We've got some gates to crash,
We've got a fire to light,
Burn down the pious trash.

Does everybody want it nicely, lined up in little neat rows'
Does anybody know precisely just where the wild wind blows'
I can hand it to you brightly wrapped up in ribbons and bows.

Love is a question mark,
Life's in a shadow box,
God hides himself sometimes, inside a paradox,
There may not ever be anything new here to say, but I'm fond of finding words that say it in a different way.

Does everybody want it nicely, lined up in little neat rows'
Does anybody know precisely just where the wild wind blows'
I can hand it to you brightly wrapped up in ribbons and bows.