One foot stands before the crib
The other by the casket
A question formed upon stilled lips
Is passed on but never askedGuess I believe that there's a point to what we do
But I ask myself is there something more besides you?Two are born to cross
Their paths, their lives, their hearts
If by chance one turns away
Are they forever lost?Guess I believe that there's a point to what we do
But I ask myself is there something more besides you?This morning I awoke
The bed warm where once it was cold
Small blessings laid upon us
Small mysteries slowly unfoldStill I wonder, is there a point to what we do?
'Cause I kind of doubt that there is something more besides youAlthough it's hard to find the point to what we do
Do I dare believe that there is something more besides you?