At the base of everything/ my foundation is made out of wood/ you've got the match you can burn it all down/ I wonder if you would?
If my mind was a forest/ would you set it ablaze/ just because you could?/ would you stand there would you watch it turn to ashes/ or would you put it out like you know that you should?

Do you think that it's possible/ to teach poetry from a book?/ is it something that can be taught to anyone or by some/ is it just understood?
What if we tried to start a riot on sunday/ do you think anyone would even look?/ Or would they just all think it it typical/ of 2 people who look how we do?

What if I asked you for your opinion/ would you give it to me straight/ or would you lie through your teeth?/ What if I started to tell you everything/ would you look down upon/ every terrible deed?
And if the sky unfolds would you feel ungrateful knowing in this way/ that you're just like me?/ What if we asked out loud all of these questions/ about what we've got/ would it be called real?

I just can't help but question the state I'm in/ 'cause am I only halfway though, or is this all I'm getting?/ You gotta let me know

So if we made a base for everything/ where do you think the building would start?/ would you build it up upon all things material/ or would you let it exist in the soul and heart?
And what if all your friends were watching/ would you still say to me/ all the things you did/ Oh can't you just word it differently/ in a special way/ that only we'd understand?