Why is it impossible now To trace every echo Back to its birth? Why is it impossible now To kiss every fever away? There is truth that's hiding Behind every wall that surrounds us. It takes a lifetime To pull the bricks away. Why is it impossible now to know? (Is this the way to understand?) With the weakest of ears We'll try only to hear The sound of our voice, Louder than fear of waking up Alone. Let conversations carry The unraveling of skin. The ink will pour an answer In children's handwriting. If all words are cameras, Hold still. Shutters slide to unveil Fingerprints of angels And a language made of film. With surgical precision, We'll cut every piece into order. And beneath soft faces, We'll climb halfway to God. Why is it impossible now to know? (Is this the way to understand?) Why is it impossible now To trace every echo Back to it's birth?