What holy cities are to nomadic tribes - a symbol of race and a bond of union - great books are to the wandering souls of men: they are the Meccas of the mind.
G.E. Woodberry
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What Do You Want From Me
As you look around this room tonight
Settle in your seat and dim the lights
Do you want my blood do you want my tears
What do you want
What do you want from me
Should I sing until I can't sing any more
Play these strings until my fingers are raw
You're so hard to please
What do you want from me
Do you think I know something you don't know
What do you want from me
If I don't promise you the answers would you go
What do you want from me
Should I stand out in the rain
Do you want me to make a daisy chain for you
I'm not the one you need
What do you want from me
You can have anything you want
You can drift, you can dream, even walk on water
Anything you want
You can own everything you see
Sell your soul for complete control
Is that really what you need
You can lose yourself this night
See inside there is nothing to hide
Turn and face the light
What do you want from me