I don't know the meaning of much I don't know the right expressions I don't have too much intuition Or too many credentials I don't know the meaning of much I never make the best impressions And I don't have the means of expression To explain my obsessions All I'm trying to tell you All I'm trying to say All I'm trying to tell you is this is enough But you're walking away I don't have the Midas touch I never make a good impression And, yes, I have the scars of ambition And it's many expressions And I don't know the price of stuff And, no, I don't command attention And I don't have sophistication Or the right connections All I'm trying to tell you All I'm trying to say All I'm trying to tell you is this is enough But you're walking away All I'm trying to tell you All I'm trying to say All I'm trying to tell you is this is enough And you're walking away There's no room in the world For your kind of beauty Yours are the names in tomorrow's newspapers Yours is the face on the desperate face of now When, like the snows of yesteryear I'll be gone from this earth Wherever you go Wherever you run Wherever you go I'll be the pilot...