In the other room I can hear them talking, I don’t think they hear a word I say.
I ask myself, “What keeps me from walking
Out that door, I see nothing stopping me. Would they even know if I was gone?
I can see myself on a great big highway – out there on my own.

In the other room I can hear them laughing. I admit I don’t get the joke.
Still I find myself just leaning half it, then
Out that door, this is clearly not for me. I’m not ready yet to pack it in.
It’s not much, but at least I know I am free out there on my own.

In the other room I can’t hear them thinking. Someone does it all for them.
Empty faces – not one eye is blinking
Out that door, this might be my last chance. The music’s stopping – should I run?
Am I confident that I have what it takes out there on my own.

I’m not afraid of where I’ve been, I’ll never be afraid of where I’m going.
I’m not questioning the wind, but does it really know where it is taking me?
I’m putting all my chips down on this thing called random.
Don’t know where I’m going; won’t you come with me?

I may never find my way, but staying here has never been an option.
If you want to, you can stay, but you know I’d love for you to come along.
The road we take may end up leading us to nowhere.
But no where’s gotta be a better place than this.

Don’t know where or when; all I really know is that I’m going.
Following no plan; find out where I’m going when I get there.
Find out where I’m going when I get there – if I get there.


Wicked Game

ChrisIsaak