| [00:17.437] | A bubble floating up |
| [00:23.079] | A perfect pink sky |
| [00:28.095] | Dodging bullets on the go |
| [00:32.666] | One could look too much at their reflections |
| [00:41.809] | One could see them tear a hole |
| [00:46.615] | One could see them tear it all |
| [00:52.153] | The intervals that we know, they don't make a change |
| [01:01.479] | They don't overshadow us in any way |
| [01:15.637] | Nearly drowned in thought, almost gone there |
| [01:24.911] | "Dodging needles takes a lot |
| [01:29.535] | Being up here, you could drop |
| [01:34.054] | Every bubble has its pop |
| [01:38.599] | You'll become what you are not" |
| [01:46.410] | And suddenly it's in your eyes |
| [01:56.206] | The intervals that we know, they don't make a change |
| [02:05.453] | They don't overshadow us in any way |
| [02:15.144] | Our touch crosses oceans |
| [02:22.067] | Our touch crosses oceans |
| [02:29.094] | Our touch crosses oceans |
| [02:55.321] | The intervals that we know, they don't make a change |
| [03:03.602] | They don't overshadow us in any way |
| [03:13.842] | A bubble floating up |
| [03:19.562] | A perfect pink sky |
| [03:23.246] | Moving closer, getting near |
| [03:27.791] | Almost quiet, almost clear |