Sometimes I wonder if am an angel or another lousy fool,
And I wonder if am God's right hand or another one of his tools,
I once thought this world would end before I'll ever be a man,
Well here we are in this sick world but I guess it's his perfect plan;

When sudden daylight comes our way then we act like we've been bold,
We also forget how bad it was in the darkness and in the cold,
There's no shame in recalling our past while we focus far ahead,
Because then we are reminded to keep-on and not fall down instead;

So then I am not an angel and I am not a fool,
I'm only a wise man who likes to play it cool,
Although, this world may never end even now that I'm aman,
And no matter how sick this world may be, I'll always have a perfect plan.

So do your homework and do it right,
Because what is worth doing is worth doing right,
And unless you've got another perfect plan,
Don't waiver because you will and you can.

Everytime we go back in time,
We hung out there,
Everytime we rise up on our feet,
We begin to fear,
There are things worth remembering
There are also things worth forgetting.

There are pictures of our past and we are trying hard to erase them,
There are pictures of the future and we try to ignore them,
There are wrongs that we can't undo,
But there are ways to make it through:

In the end will you accept if I handed you flowers,
In the end if we win or lose, the quest is ours,
In the end there is no life with no past and a future,
In the end only us can decide what we want on our picture;

So come with me and baby be mine,
So come with me to the end of time,
Where we'll both build a world,
Our world With no righteous god.

The poet lives two lives.
One on the outside,
And one in their mind.

When you look in their eyes
You could see an abyss.

If you looked long enough
You could sink into it.

But most people don’t see it.

Take the time to read the words, though,
And you would know for sure.

The poet lives in two different worlds.

I left my heart back in Kiev,
found my soul in South Korea.
I dreamed of the northern lights,
and saw a shooting star in Paris.

I lost my virginity in Ibiza,
drank too much up in Dublin.
I ran in the streets of Ljubljana,
and drove with windows down in Sydney.