Bet you think you’re a big shot
I think that’s what you are not.
You are just a small dot
in an endless gallant sea.
Muster it up.
Countdown to make the call,
try to piece together a message.
Windows rolled, it goes down with the dial.
Confusion’s always the answer.
Flying in me, I’m heading to space.
Bet you forgot your old smile
I think it’s been a while.
You’ve walked a thousand miles
and you’re still right where you’ve been.
I believe I’ll get there, will you be around?
I believe we’ll get there, feet leaving the ground.
Where’s the worry with that?
Snowflake flurries fall flat.
Piece and call out and confusion is the answer.
Went out and thought about more than I can imagine.
Where confusion doesn’t answer
and cacti brush the sky.