Question – A better version
It's a question that drives us,
to where we must go.
It's the unknown that drives us,
and we want to discover it.
And the question is burning, staying by our sides.
There is one thing I reget about,
that I didn't try to find her.
Sometimes it's better to think about it once more.
And a butterfly came to me,
he sat on my finger,
than he flew away,
And I followed her.
And I find it.
The butterfly was a question of life,
Like in a black hole, the time was crashing, there.
We were afraid, but the fear fade away.
So follow the butterfly,
run with her now,
break the chains that caught you,
from been alive.
You won't regret.
Fly, above what you called home.
Fly, you'll see a grand new world.
It's a question that drives us,
to where we must go.
It's the unknown that drives us,
and we want to discover it.
Oh-oh-oh-oh
(It's a question that drives us,
to where we must go.
It's the unknown that drives us,
and we want to discover it.)
It's a question that drives us,
to where we must go.
It's the unknown that drives us,
and we want to discover it.
Oh-oh-oh-oh
(And the question is burning, staying by our sides.
There is one thing I reget about,
that I didn't try to find her.
Sometimes it's better to think about it once more)
FLY!
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