Barbra Streisand Where Is It Written
There's not a morning I begin without a thousand questions running through my mind. That I don't try to find the reason and the logic in the world that God design. The reason why, a bird was given wings if not to fly, and praise the sky with every song it sings. What's right or wrong, where I belong whithin the schem of things. And why have eyes that see and arms that reach unless you're meant to know there's something more. If not to hunger for the meaning of it all then tell me what a soul is for. Why have the wings unless you're meant to fly and tell me please why have a mind if not to question why And tell me where, where is it written what it is I'm meant to be That I can't dare to have the chance to pick the fruit of every tree or have my share of every sweet imagined possibility. Just tell me where, where is it written, tell me where. If I were only meant to tend the nest then why does my imagination sail accross the mountains and the seas beyond the make-believe of any fary tale why have the thirst if not to drink the wine and what a waste to have a taste of things that can't be mine. And tell me where, where is it written what it is I'm meant to be that I can't dare to see the meanings in the mornings that I see or have my share of every sweet imagined possibility. Just tell me where, where is it written, tell me where. Or if it's written anywhere.
