It's so uncertain that every step
Has a purpose, a direction
It's not easy to believe in chance
Everything needs an explanation
Formulas, methods, and results
Our senses, so limited
I don't like to believe
That the best things are the hardest
I don't need to know how to fly
To find you in the clouds and love you
Doesn't it seem like every fact
Has a meaning, a reason?
Everything seems premeditated
We forget about passion
Dreams left aside
We lose imagination
I don't like to believe
That the best things are the hardest
I don't need to know how to fly
To find you in the clouds and love you
What you love
What you desire
What you touch
What doesn't come
What you leave
What you see
What escapes
What you have