No matter how much, there's always more of it.
And a tender touch cleared all of it.
I said nothing - you said nothing - we did nothing at all.
Like a maple key - graceful in our fall.
But what am I going to do with everything I know?
What am I going to do with everything I know?
When I set it out in letters, work in my fingers,
and now I don't remember what I touched.
Oh, I would throw out all the water for want of a cup -
as though it didn't matter if it can't be drunk.
So what am I going to do with everything I know?
What are you going to do with everything you know?
I was staring at you - felt like staring out a window.
It all becomes true if we say so

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