And I don't mind that everything's a mess

Right now, I could care less

And I believe, that a bit of harm never hurt anyone

I've plotted out the route to take us into a place kinda like

Where we're now

Except this time I think you're gonna need a pair of mittens for the frozen air

I would gladly navigate things

You look out for sharp rocks

But I do believe I've found that illusive Bering strait

And if you'd like to we could

So we'll sit there, and stare into thin air

Light that match, and watch it flare

And kiss hello, to a ground laid with snow

Where nothing's left, but frozen air

There won't be any green or fear on trees

Or even below our frozen toes

But the tundras match the clouds at night

And on a clear day you can see, next Saturday

Build our home out of snow, in the first glacier we find

But I do believe I've fallen into a nasty crevice laced with ice 

So now what