Caught rotten,
Staring out a window at nothing in particular,
With a poor man's excuse for a horizon in front of me.
I've definitely been this way before,
I'm just not sure I like the scenery all that much.
But there you go.

I just don't know what I want.
I just don't know what I want.
I just don't know what I want.
I just don't know what I want.

That's really beside the point though,
Seeing as how all my messages get returned to sender.
I'm still busy subdividing my divisions,
Into smaller pieces of insignificance.

What does it mean? Why should we care?
Is that the 4, or the 4GS, or the Desire?
In all the cities in all the world is there anyone
Who is well qualified to answer your questions?

I just don't know what I want.
I just don't know what I want.
I just don't know what I want.
I just don't know what I want.

Everybody's trying to be so cool, so calm, so collected,
But you should not let that fool you.
If you scratch that surface, just a little bit,
You will find it,
The panic that consumes.

It's a hard old station -
As someone might once have said before me.
Let me tell you, life is not fair,
And every chance you get you must grab it,
With BOTH HANDS.

I just don't know what I want.
I just don't know what I want.
I just don't know what I want.
I just don't know what I want.