Something about playwrights
Roaring through the dead of night
She leans her head back
Closes her eyes

I asked her name, she said
Something about angels
You know I never forgot

And maybe everyone
Is here for everyone else
‘Cause all we are
Is searching for what’s inside ourselves

You have hands just like mine
Lips that smile, eyes that cry
Oh I want to feel your heart
Beating next to mine

And maybe everyone
Is here for everyone else
‘Cause all I am
Is searching for what’s inside myself

And maybe everyone
Is here for everyone else
‘Cause you and I
Are searching for what’s inside ourselves
All we are is searching for what’s inside