The marbles rolled off the table
and made a crack in the grass
We all thought there was nothing inside the sphere
As antiguated as it may seem what goes around comes 
around
and entertains what we've thought in the past
In his fingertips is something like a shining star
and whne you pick up the pieces, well, all you'll find is 
what's left
Something outshined in the guise of coincidence
and is for sure?
Who's really sure of anythign?
So let's dance in ideas
and make nothing seem impossible
Because who wants to know all the answers when we can 
sing and it's enough
Cause when you pick up the pieces, well, all you'll find 
is what's left