Come with me and i′ll sail the stormy seas, of our prior enemies, til' we feel those blues and greens.
And their all is for the painting.
And it′ll be ours as we're waking.
And then, we'll fall through all our dreams again...
We wil feel the pulls and tugs and then, again.
They′ll reflect and twist and break and bend, again.
We′ll begin where we began again.