And when the day arrives, I will be petrified.
Pressure is increasing with every meter that we sink.
But I won't let it get inside of me.
We're still too far away to be afraid.

I wanted to shape and change them
But it's they who've changed me.
I wanted to get on top of them
But they wouldn't let me.

They're as elusive as air:
As soon as we name them they are gone.
Their meaning disappears.
Melts like an icicle in the sun.

I wanted to shape and change them
But it's they who've changed me.
I wanted to get inside of them
But they wouldn't let me in.

How much control do we have over what we wish for?
How much control do we have over what we wish for?
How many decisions we take are rational?
How much is intentional?