And the heart is hard to translate It has a language of it's own talks in tongues and quiet sighs In prayers proclamations grand deeds Of great men smallest gestures short shallow gasps But with all my education I can't seem command it words are escaping coming back damaged would put them poetry If only knew how understand give this heaven too if for moment That could just The meaning word you see 'Cause I've been scrawling forever never makes sense me at tiptoes sings inside cries out darkest night breaks morning light how No words poor doesn't deserve such treatment stumbling phrases Never amounted anything worth feeling All describe Such as I'm hearing Words were so useful So was screaming existed before