I know I'm searching for somethingSomething so undefinedThat it can only be seenBy the eyes of the blindIn the middle of the night.

She can kill with a smile,She can wound with her eyes.

When you look into my eyesAnd you see the crazy gypsy in my soulIt always comes as a surpriseWhen I feel my withered roots begin to growWell I never had a place that I could call my very ownThat's all right, my love, 'cause you're my home

We all went around the table, telling stories, and Marc batted cleanup, as always. There weren't many dry eyes.

You can't be too wise
So open your eyes
Stay young at heart.

But your empty eyesSeem to pass me byLeave me dancing with myself.