in the waking hours of hopelessness, you pray for some relief. the world knows how youâre feeling and remembers, but never told you. waiting, waiting. you will find your love, and you will be loved. waiting, waiting. you will find your love, and you will be loved again. waiting always hurts, when you know just what youâre wanting and itâs out of your grasp. fate, it only speaks to you in riddles, not solutions.