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I've known you a hundred odd years/ And I've heard all your stories Seen all your laughter and tears/ And those half-jokes that you tell We share the same eyes/ But none of us knows/ what really goes on inside. I pick up the phone before you even call/ But there's no way to break down the wall. I know you so well, I don't know you at all. You paint pictures with all of your words/ like an artist you labour But it's mostly all on your own terms/ And you looks they just lie It's all but a glimpse/ of something so deep, all that we see is the eclipse. I pick up the phone before you even call.... I know you so well, I don't know you at all. But if you're willing to believe in a God Then He knows in a way that's beyond The knowing that we've come to know.