What gives, what helps
The Intuition
I'll know, I'll know
(Oh) I won't have to be shown
The way home
And it's not about a boy
Although, although
They can lead you
Hide or reveal too
A destination known
Only by the one
Whose fate is overgrown
Piecemeal could break your home
And have
A love is not complete
With only heat
They can tease you
Break or complete you
And in came a heatwave
A merciful save
You choose, you chose
Poetry over prose
A map is more unreal
(Oh) Than where you've been
Or how you feel
And it's impossible to tell
How important something was
And what you might have missed out on
And how it might have changed it all
Did I, did I
Did I, did I
Did I, did I
Writer(s): Leslie Feist
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