Maybe the signs are few
I trace them with my hand
But every step is new
Across a shifting land
The river splits in two
I pick the one less worn
The trail I choose is true
A journey not yet born
Two maps lie on the floor
Each one points to a different shore
Every choice could be a door
Maybe both, but I'd like more
Two maps lie on the floor
Each one points to a different shore
I'll trust the turning and the flow
The maybe road will help me grow
The river splits in two
I pick the one less worn
The trail I choose is true
A journey not yet born
Two maps lie on the floor
Each one points to a different shore
Every choice could be a door
Maybe both, but I'd like more
Two maps lie on the floor
Each one points to a different shore
I'll trust the turning and the flow
The maybe road will help me grow