Your memory, it knocks out me like I'm made of   A living, breathing question   I can't stop or start or pull apart   So I become a child   Stomping feet and hands   And to justify those colder months   I turn them into years, years      And in them still no answers   Just old familiar fears      And an endless hope to feel   That some day I'll belong to someone   The way I belong to you   The way I belong...      Your memory is like some frame I depend upon   For all the new fitted pictures in them   I only see what's gone   A hundred possiblities are worth none   If none are taken   There's a hundred thousand monologues   Worth less than one conversation      A question and an answer   Oh, these old familiar fears      And an endless hope to feel   That some day I'll belong to someone   The way I belong to you   The way I belong...      Until your time comes my way   I keep living   I keep living   Until your time comes my way   I keep living   I keep living