|
[ti:101010] |
|
[ar:Sleeping at last] |
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[al:Yearbook] |
| [00:38.06] |
Hold your breath and count to 28. |
| [00:45.83] |
Change is slow but i feel it taking shape. |
| [00:54.29] |
Folding over us like waves |
| [00:59.11] |
On origami ocean tides, we sway |
| [01:07.24] |
Like blueprints constantly being rearranged. |
| [01:14.87] |
Over microscopes we plan and strain. |
| [01:22.88] |
The finest print in the whitest ink, |
| [01:27.26] |
Before it dries, there's no time to think. |
| [01:31.81] |
It feels like everything we've known is sink or swim |
| [01:37.89] |
But grey is not a compromise - |
| [01:41.65] |
It is the bridge between two sides. |
| [01:46.28] |
I would even argue that it is the color |
| [01:52.93] |
That most represents God's eyes. |
| [02:00.25] |
Hold your breath and count to 29. |
| [02:07.97] |
Connect the dots and cherish every line. |
| [02:16.21] |
Paper cuts and trails aside, |
| [02:20.38] |
Make a wish and hold it tight, |
| [02:24.50] |
This time, we'll try our very hardest not to try. |
| [02:31.24] |
'cause grey is not a compromise - |
| [02:34.65] |
It is the bridge between two sides. |
| [02:39.43] |
The shores on which our stubborn land |
| [02:42.56] |
And restless seas collide. |
| [02:48.05] |
Grey is not just middle ground, |
| [02:51.62] |
It is a truce that waits to be signed. |
| [02:56.55] |
I would even argue that, from where we stand, |
| [03:01.12] |
It most represents the color of God's eyes. |
| [03:18.61] |
So, let's fold our atlas into paper planes. |
| [03:26.20] |
Change is slow, but i feel it taking shape. |
