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Diving like a bird,
I take the blue out of your eyes;
high-jack a plane to France.

If we could watch the moon
and dance across the street into a bar,
I would never leave.

But I know I'll have to go sometime;
your hold on me is stronger than
the alcohol
that's slowly killing me.

So I'm searching
for the better,
searching
for the better:
the better part of me,
for the better part of me.

Turning up the fan
to keep the spark out of my eye,
so that I can see;

Like a cloudy sky,
I'm holding on and staying high,
trying to believe.

But we all have to go sometime;
your hold on me is stronger than
the gravity
that's slowly crushing me.

So I'm searching
for the better,
searching
for the better:
the better part of me,
for the better part of me.