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