If you count on science, the science fades away
like a crystal ball mystery that reflects the sunray,
coming to your room through this rain,
when the skies are open again
If you want to run from the world, you may
in the imagination of your brain.
Anything is possible in your dream of luck
in the assembled time traveling through the memory crack
When the future knocks -
the sound wakes you up
to the force of inevitable,
to the reality of being vulnerable,
just to return you back to the earth at night,
where your brain brings the new page in white
And you think, think through this rain,
but your thoughts are flat and plain.
There is a chance that all assumptions are a lie,
but it could be also a promise of saying goodbye