I cultivate ideas
In the desert I keep the impossible
While the similar kills his similar
But it's possible to be a better man
It's not true that you're in the savannah
That if you're not the one who runs, there's someone who runs you
And not running, no, it's not a race
It will come to you first, at the top of the ladder
Maybe I don't have a pure heart, metal and blade
But with a heart in my hand, I still love you
Under the world that shoots and stabs
There's still hope if you just dig a little