"No Idea" (a song, with a kind of country-Celtic lilt)
See, you have no idea what you're thinking!
Yet you're having no troubles at all;
you've been everywhere, you know,
and looked high and you've looked low,
but I'm still here waiting for your call.
There's a certain kind of madness to the moment,
and it's something that I've never felt before.
If you learn to speak things true,
and back up the things you do,
then you'll find that there's a way that you'll endure.
[Chorus]
Oh no, I don't think
that you ever thought of me.
Oh no, I don't think
that the sunset is for free.
It's a beauty that we earned
and through heartache I have learned.
White caps and white mittens
on tiny white kittens
that march in a row,
careful paws,
neat and slow.
Over waves, rough and jagged,
and clouds, torn and ragged,
relentless, they go,
pawing the undertow.
Tumbling over the surf,
they're the kings of their turf.
Pouncing playfulness grows,
from their tails to their toes.
And caught up in the throes
of a wind's gusting woes,
they are blustered away,
kittens out on the bay.