Your face seeking truth
so close to mine
I'd rather not lie to you
But the truth is, I don't know what I'm doing
Such undefined sense of duty,
lines shrouded in ambiguity--
It's doubtful time will remedy entirely
those potential discrepancies
between what is right and what I do
I doubt you mind, I doubt you know,
I doubt you realize I don't know
what I should be doing
But bonds are strengthening all the while,
in spite of weak grasp of duty
So I'm clambering to somehow continue
whatever it is I do that's right
So that I might have a hope of being true to you
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