The marbles rolled off the table and made a crack in the grass We all thought there was nothing inside the sphere As antiguated as it may seem what goes around comes around and entertains what we've thought in the past In his fingertips is something like a shining star and whne you pick up the pieces, well, all you'll find is what's left Something outshined in the guise of coincidence and is for sure? Who's really sure of anythign? So let's dance in ideas and make nothing seem impossible Because who wants to know all the answers when we can sing and it's enough Cause when you pick up the pieces, well, all you'll find is what's left