How can anyone hope to hold on to something that cannot be touched
Setting sail for illusive white whales on a rickety bucket of rust
It's like we try to make diamonds just by squeezing a handful of dust
And we fail and we don't know why
Then we blame it on the sky
There's a speculant's engine inside us blinding our fears for the gain
It's the core of the human spirit, happiness prevails over pain, so
What prevents us from dropping the umbrella and enjoying the rain?
As we close our eyes and we smile
And we raise our chins to the sky
Maybe someday we'll make that diamond
Maybe that old boat is fine
Maybe the things that we cannot touch are the ones that we leave behind
And all the things we never tried
So we'll set all our fears to the side
And we'll leave the rest to the skies

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