"At The Gates" lyrics

Tell me the value of all the things that you've done
Give examples of your accomplishments and the medals you've won
And all the honors and the accolades of your professional life
Touch on the beauty and good qualities of your children and wife, and you know

It's not a wall of all the pictures you've hung
It's not the timbre of the bells that you've rung
It's not the meaning of the songs you've sung
It's not the record in the races you've run
It's not a poem of the battles you've fought
It's not a book of all the lessons you taught
It's not just your timing and your get-up-and-go
It's not your knowledge of the things you know-oh oh oh

Hand me all the papers and the pens in your hand
And describe the shape of all the lines you've drawn in the sand
And take a breath and tell me what the air reminds you of
And catch a firefly in the pocket of your baseball glove, and don't forget

It's not the fistfights and the elections you've won
It's not just the penance and the time you've done
It's not just a story of the choices you made
It's not a schematic of the plans you laid
It's not just your patience and your je ne sais quois
It's not your good looks and your la-de-de-da
It's not just a wall of all the pictures you've hung
It's not whatever's on the tip of your tongue

It's not a book of all the lessons you taught
It's not a poem of the battles you fought
It's not a wall of all the pictures you've hung
It's not the timbre of the bells you've rung
It's not just the penance and the time you've done
It's not the fistfights and the elections you've won
It's not just a wall of all the pictures you've hung
It's not the timbre of the bells you've rung