If you were a tall pine, in an old park, leaning
Or some bright flower dying, a wild rose, an iris
If you were an airplane, or the clear sky, or the jet stream
Then you wouldn't have to ask why
Wake up, in the morning, in the wild wind, of your dreaming
A scarecrow scared of wanting, so afraid to be reaching
But out there in the tall grass, a bright future, you can build it
But still you will have to ask why
Forever guessing, the gold web of your questions
A world made of confusion, that you always feel lost in
But under every eyelid, every heartbeat, every white rib
Is someone who is asking why
Under every eyelid, every heartbeat, pumping red blood
Is someone who is asking why"