This morning everything is wrong

Understanding is never the whole view,

the actual facts are always hard to know,

sometimes we miss what’s exactly all true.

The map shows us that all the roads are new,

but something tells us it is just a show,

understanding is never the whole view 

of our sweet valley, where the warm winds blew,

yet all we comprehend is the breeze blow,

sometimes we miss what’s exactly all true.

The news all day turns pleasant into blue,

there’s no way now to interrupt the flow;

understanding is never the full view.

We tried together, we the smallest crew

of the whole fleet, but we turned out too slow,

sometimes we miss what’s exactly all true.

We’ve gone beyond the lands our fathers knew, to deserts, and high mountains of deep snow.

Understanding is never the full view,

sometimes we miss what’s exactly all true.