| [00:17.437] |
A bubble floating up |
| [00:23.079] |
A perfect pink sky |
| [00:28.095] |
Dodging bullets on the go |
| [00:32.666] |
One could look too much at their reflections |
| [00:41.809] |
One could see them tear a hole |
| [00:46.615] |
One could see them tear it all |
| [00:52.153] |
The intervals that we know, they don't make a change |
| [01:01.479] |
They don't overshadow us in any way |
| [01:15.637] |
Nearly drowned in thought, almost gone there |
| [01:24.911] |
"Dodging needles takes a lot |
| [01:29.535] |
Being up here, you could drop |
| [01:34.054] |
Every bubble has its pop |
| [01:38.599] |
You'll become what you are not" |
| [01:46.410] |
And suddenly it's in your eyes |
| [01:56.206] |
The intervals that we know, they don't make a change |
| [02:05.453] |
They don't overshadow us in any way |
| [02:15.144] |
Our touch crosses oceans |
| [02:22.067] |
Our touch crosses oceans |
| [02:29.094] |
Our touch crosses oceans |
| [02:55.321] |
The intervals that we know, they don't make a change |
| [03:03.602] |
They don't overshadow us in any way |
| [03:13.842] |
A bubble floating up |
| [03:19.562] |
A perfect pink sky |
| [03:23.246] |
Moving closer, getting near |
| [03:27.791] |
Almost quiet, almost clear |
