Sun rises, and we talk about the weather,
Sun bleaches, and we ponder it all,
The fine line between the banker and the debtor,
What happens if the satellites fall?
Too shy; we ought to come right out and say it,
Too sly to let the other one know,
Head full of this kaleidoscope of brain-freight,
Heart full of something simple and slow,
Simple and slow.
Love is not the only thing; it’s the best thing,
Love is never everything; it’s the best thing,
It’s the best thing.
Too tired to read another twenty pages,
Too bored to see the anchorman’s face,
Too young to bear the burdens of the ages,
Too old to keep an innocent pace,
But you see me like a prism sees a candle,
I’m scattered into differing hues,
Reality is happening at random,
You’re warming up the yellows and blues,
Yellows and blues.
Love is not the only thing, but it’s the best thing,
Love is never everything, but it’s the best thing,
It’s the best thing.
Let’s go up on the roof, beneath the neon,
Pretend we’re foreigners, and drink the city in,
Somewhere between the stairwell and the starlight I find myself holding your hand,
Half-cousins to the angels and the demons,
Half-brother to the fatherless sons,
I lay awake and wonder at the reasons,
One kiss and I’m lost in your charms,
Lost in your charms,
Lost in your charms,
Lost in your charms.
Love is not the only thing; it’s the best thing,
Love is never everything, but it’s the best thing,
Love is not the only thing; it’s the best thing,
Love is never everything, but it’s the best thing,
It’s the best thing.
It’s the best thing,
Oh, it’s the best thing,
It’s the best thing,
It’s the best thing,
It’s the best thing,
It’s the best thing,
It’s the best thing,
It’s the best thing,
It’s the best thing.
