I wasn’t hung on a riddle, baby
My wagon was running right…until
Five hundred twelve minutes into the fever
I’d melted all the ice
I’ve got a number of concerns
They’re stacked upon my true intentions
Preventing my hope from shining through
To you
I’ve got a number of concerns
They’re all there, waving to be heard
I’ve got a number of concerns
And that number is so concerning to me…that…
I’d take a tour of the moon to get through
And broadcast across the night
I seem to soar, but then end up down here
Where I just can’t decide
But when I’m alone in the gallery
It’s like a new sea
Or a scene where I’d dream
Everything was exceptionally green
They found liquid love on Mars
I’ve got a number of concerns
They’re stacked upon my true intentions
preventing my hope from shining through
To you
I’ve got a number of concerns
They’re all there, waving to be heard
I’ve got quite a number of concerns
And that number is still concerning to me
