Sacred

we talk about social imperfections / we talk about wolves at every turn
we think about the comical direction / i might've taken if i'd never learned
there's no time for happy ever after / there's no time for walking in the surf
there are no words i could ever mumble / that could touch
the depths of what you're worth /

and it's me who wants it all to be now / to be somehow perfect /
me that wants it all to be right / to be something sacred /

you write down your intimate perceptions / you write down your disenchanted prose /
breathe deep the air of your existence / anything to understand the life you chose

'cause it's me who wants it all to be now / to be somehow perfect /
me that wants it all to be right / to be something sacred, to be something sacred /

and i don't understand the reason why; a cry for love gets no reply /
the refuse swirling at my feet, the fascination with deceit /
the politics of empty men, the confidence we all pretend /
the multitudes at every gate, the unexpected hand of fate /

and it's me who wants it all to be now to be somehow perfect /
me that wants it all to be right / to be something sacred