You're a painting with symbols deep,
A symphony, soft as it shifts from dark beneath,
A poem that flows, caressing my skin.
In all of these things you reside,
And I want to flow from the pen, bow, and brush
From morning to the black of night.
This is my goal, I belong to You,
This is my goal to sing the melodies of You,
This is my goal, I can do nothing else.
I can do nothing else.

You're the scent of an unfound bloom,
A simple tune, I only write variations to,
A drink that will knock me down on the floor,
A key that will unlock the door.
This is my goal, I belong to You,
This is my goal to sing the melodies of You,
This is my goal, I can do nothing else.
I can do nothing else.
-Sixpence None the Richer