Twenty-six letters formed into words
For all of our joys and all of our sorrows
Twenty-six reasons to sit here all day
Trying to hear what I want to say
Just a few octaves shaped into chords
Sing of this beauty, tell of this war
Twenty-six hours, two I make up
For learning a language I've never heard of
Search the darkness, don't run from it
The night traveler is full of light
Singers they pick up their hotel pens
And write of the loneliness the highway brings
Maybe the strain of it tears at my seams
But I'm ready for something bigger than me
Call it my disease or my medicine
But my third eye is busy opening
The birds of sadness still perch on my tree
They stare down at me
Now I don't look away
Search the darkness, don't run from it
The night traveler is full of light
*chorus adapted from the Rumi poem "Search The Darkness"
For all of our joys and all of our sorrows
Twenty-six reasons to sit here all day
Trying to hear what I want to say
Just a few octaves shaped into chords
Sing of this beauty, tell of this war
Twenty-six hours, two I make up
For learning a language I've never heard of
Search the darkness, don't run from it
The night traveler is full of light
Singers they pick up their hotel pens
And write of the loneliness the highway brings
Maybe the strain of it tears at my seams
But I'm ready for something bigger than me
Call it my disease or my medicine
But my third eye is busy opening
The birds of sadness still perch on my tree
They stare down at me
Now I don't look away
Search the darkness, don't run from it
The night traveler is full of light
*chorus adapted from the Rumi poem "Search The Darkness"