Tekst piosenki
From a row
Immaculate thing
It takes a bunch of time
To a shape
From your thought
From your secret place
Theres a long way to create
Whats not growing is dead
I think I stopped
Could you please simulate
My hands, my eyes, my soul?
I hope its not too late
Where are you?
Call me my destiny
I hope you are the key
Hit me!
Whats not growing is dead
