The Art Of Not Knowing - Wars

I am our cartographer

And to the sound of sad pianos

I sketch away the shore

To try to get to you

I vacillate and oscillate, uncertain on this axis

And oh what would a real man do?

What could a real man do now?

Like maps to each other, we plot and trace and stutter

But no matter the route, I can’t find a way

I can’t find a, way, to you

I can’t find a, way, to you

We’re wrought, with the broken maps of our thoughts

Yet we stretch, cross a gulf that knows we are less

She said, how can we know what is right

When we, live only one life at a time

And these ambivalences

We’ll force to become nothing

Eaten away, we will strive and we will stay

To force our way past the shores

And know, a little bit more

An endless emptiness, soaked through my skin

The world seemed dim

The aching seemed to sing

I’m so sick of depriving myself

Of the beauty, and the meaning these moments deserve

But we tear at the roots

And we scratch away the truth

Serving our secret want to make things worse

In waiting rooms our voices linger on

The signs above the door, read burdensome

We scratch at the silence try to see in the dark

Come to peace, we can’t see, and not-knowing is the art

We’re wrought, with the broken maps of our thoughts

Yet we stretch, cross a gulf that knows we are less

She said, how can we know what is right

When we, live only one life at a time

And these ambivalences

We’ll force to become nothing

Eaten away, we will strive and we will stay

To force our way past the shores

And know, a little bit more