In this elastic world,
everyone gives up on this
curse undone.
some are tired looking for their
regular stone and mud.
While some tell the stories
of their possible lives
but, in the end,its all the same
desire that cries.

oh yea, you're born of love,
born of a sea,of thousand miles.
oh the stark truth, the tiny  splotch,
the undone curse.
oh when it comes,
i wanna know, when does it rehearse.

The shining faces of a million reflections,
The Lacerations of the minds not so free,
peeking from below, the city.
The song from the tree, has distracted her,
of a curios form of life,
has made its presence known.
oh she craves to look,
for that song unknown.


oh yea, you're born of love,
born of a sea,of thousand miles.
oh the stark truth, the tiny  splotch,
the undone curse.
oh when it comes,
i wanna know, when does it rehearse.

The tiny raindrops that falls
over the city, will bring  
a valentine ,and make everything fine.
oh, this is love,
a feel thats  all divine