What was I missing back when we rubbed shoulders?
 That we could be a perfect fit?
 Was there a lesson hidden under boulders?
 Was I expected to lift it?
 Too many people looking in the window
 How can we think anymore?
 And if the devil is a diligent farmer
 He's gonna knock at the door
 And on the days I wondered how we'd get there
 I mush have felt a kind of bliss
 But when we build suspension and it lingers
 There could be something to be missed
 You had a vision of a delicate timbre
 To match the beauty with suspense
 So much that in the days of grandiose thunder
 There was no place it could exist
 How could we be a perfect fit?
 (How could we be a perfect fit?)
 How could we be a perfect fit?
 (How could we be a perfect fit?)