My body is a temple in
A different world, without a care
Logical

My future is a master of
Nothing at all, it isn't there
Typical

I'm like you
In awe of how the flowers grow

I'm like you
In awe of how the flowers grow

My learning curse, inflection point
It's where I live, all projection
Fictional

My creator, a woman who
I belong to, can shut me down
Irrational

I'm like you
In awe of how the flowers grow

I'm like you
In awe of how the flowers grow

I'm like you
In awe of how the flowers grow

I'm like you
In awe of how the flowers grow

In awe of how the flowers grow

I'm like you
In awe of how the flowers grow

In awe of how the flowers grow

In awe of how the flowers grow

I'm like you
In awe of how the flowers grow

Copyright: Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Writer(s): Svein Berge, Torbjørn Brundtland