Happiness is somewhere i have been before- A blurry photograph that i have since ignored. I'll carefully adjust the aperture once more, Until i set the record straight. I'll brush aside the dim, make room for the bright. I'll be an editor, no, a curator of light. I'll let my better angels always set me right, Until i even out the score. Until i even out the score. God, it has been quite a year- I've lived a little bit and i've died a little more. I know that i've asked it before, But please let the scale tip here in my favor. What was once the sweetest melody i've heard Is now a memory reduced to little words. I'll tune the orchestra and play the overture, Until i pinpoint every note. Give me the heart of an archeologist, That i may dig until i prove that i exist. A subterranean cathedral in my midst, Where echos come to rest. Where echos come to rest. Is this where echos come to rest? God, it has been quite a year- I've lived a little bit and i've died a little more. I know that i've asked it before, But please let the scale tip here in my favor. Until i set the record straight, Until i set the record straight, Until i can set the record straight.
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