Eames Era I Don't Mind
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
