Sometimes i looked at stars, i wonder do they know how to count
Because i can only generate abstract thoughts about how we become strange and cold
Numbers and figures, of the old tell tales; nine will be fine in a wine tasting dinner
but eight will be better if you could recover from the hangover
Seven might be too sweet if you are not in a trip
Six can be wonderful, in a world full of chaotic
Five is the strange elements of magic
Four things we can only put in ashtray is the dusts of the box we never laid our fingers upon
Or you can count on me like one two three i will be where i want to be.
Its with you, like always
