Pages
by Chris Mullen

I sit on a stool with a pen in my hand.
The words hit the page as I give the command
Is it fate or compulsion that write the next line
Is it vain to desire to know the design?
but I'm reaching inside to pull my thoughts from a place
that I can't define, though it gives me a taste
It bridges a gap that I'm desperate to cross
For a moment I'm with you, I'm no longer lost

and these words could fill a page, and the pages fill a book
At the end when I'm flipping through, I won't feel so confused
by all the lines it took

I've given some thought to the point of all this
How I wrestle these words just to make them all fit
Or I hold them inside 'till they make me feel sick
Then I flip them and move them and hope that they stick
There's a check in my heart to make sure that they're right
That they hold their own weight when I bring them to light
I'm pushing them down from my head to my heart
but I can't see the end no matter how much I start

And these words could fill a page, and the pages fill a book
At the end when I'm flipping through, I won't feel so confused
By all the lines it took
It can feel like such a grind, just trying to say it all the time
but as long as You hear my heart, even with its missing parts
I know that I'll be fine

I've written pages and pages, but I still haven't said what I mean (X4)

And these words could fill a page, and the pages fill a book
At the end when I'm flipping through, I won't feel so confused
By all the lines it took
It can feel like such a grind, just trying to say it all the time
but as long as You hear my heart, even with its missing parts
I know that I'll be fine