What was I missing back when we rubbed shoulders? That we could be perfect fit? Was there a lesson hidden under boulders? Was i expected to lift it? Too many people lookin' in the window How can we think anymore And if the devil is a diligent farmer He's gonna knock at the door And on the days I wondered how we'ld get there I must have felt a kind of bliss But when we build suspension and it lingers There could be something to be missed Your had a vision of a delicate timbre To math the beauty with suspense So much that in the days of grandiose thunder There was no place it could exist .....Hold Me..... How could we be a perfect fit?