What Are You Not Telling Me?

And the mysteries of love are not for us

It's the little things that are tearing us up

As the telephone emits a brittle sigh

Only one of us will reach it in time

What are you not telling me?

What are you not telling me?

As I blow away the dandelion clock

Will the miracle reveal itself?

Like an amateur under the sickle moon

Did I give away control too soon?

Just bred for the birds in second hand furs

An occasional touch, an occasional word

No the mysteries of love are not for us

It's the little things that are tearing us up

What are you not telling me?

What are you not telling me?

What are you not telling me?

What are you not telling me?