[Verse 1]
I don't know what I'm doing
I don't know where I'm going
I thought I'd have more figured out by now
But all the streetlamps on my road keep burning out
[Chorus]
But I'm
Learning to trust learning to trust You
Learning to trust learning to trust You
Learning to trust learning to trust Your heart
While I'm running with you in the dark
Learning to trust learning to trust You
Learning to trust learning to trust You
Learning to trust learning to trust Your heart
While I'm running with You in the dark
[Verse 2]
I don't know what You're doing
But I know we'll get through it
I thought I'd hear Your voice come thunder in
Instead I'm waiting for a whisper on the wind
[Chorus]
But I'm
Learning to trust learning to trust You
Learning to trust learning to trust You
Learning to trust learning to trust Your heart
While I'm running with you in the dark
Learning to trust learning to trust You
Learning to trust learning to trust You
Learning to trust learning to trust Your heart
While I'm running with You in the dark
[Verse 3]
And when I can't see Your face
I will lift my gaze and offer my surrender
And when I can't see Your plan
I will lift my hands and offer my surrender
Learning to trust learning to trust You
Learning to trust learning to trust You
Learning to trust learning to trust Your heart
While I'm running with you in the dark
Learning to trust learning to trust You
Learning to trust learning to trust You
Learning to trust learning to trust Your heart
While I'm running with You in the dark
While I'm running with You in the dark
I don't know what You're doing
But I know we'll get through it
Running With You In The Dark
Song Meaning
Tenth Avenue North refuses to pretend the uncertainty in "Running With You In The Dark" has resolved by the time the song ends — "I don't know what I'm doing, I don't know where I'm going" opens the first verse, and a close variation reopens the second: "I don't know what You're doing." The not-knowing isn't a phase the song moves past; it's the condition the whole song is written from inside of.
"I thought I'd hear Your voice come thunder in, instead I'm waiting for a whisper on the wind" admits a specific disappointment — expecting something dramatic and getting something quieter instead — without treating that quietness as absence. The repeated "learning to trust" keeps the verb in process rather than claiming arrival; trust here is presented as a practice still being built, not a settled fact.
"When I can't see Your face, I will lift my gaze and offer my surrender" ties the response directly to the limitation named just before it — surrender isn't offered instead of seeing clearly, it's offered specifically because clarity isn't available yet.