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What is it that makes the wind blow, that stops the drunk poet,
What on earth is it that makes you wakes you in the morning and you're feeling down
but by night time you're laughing your head off in the shadow of a wish?
What could it be that makes you fall in love with a woman who's challenging, who's in trouble,
how can a bottle make you drunk even though you didn't drink it?
What makes you keep searching for justice when there's none to be had?
What could it be that makes you leave your bike by the wall
so you can walk all evening with a friend and talk about the future?
What could it be, this strange courage or fear that comes upon us,
What does it all mean? That man and his blessed heart
he's like a bird that stops mid-flight to watch what's going on down there below