Who cares about your mystic lies Is it a claim to some reality I found myself barefoot on stones I donзЈ? think ж…–t was meant to be? I donзЈ? think ж…–t just had to be?
So how can it be pre-arranged When thereжЉЇ no order anyway I found myself barefoot on stone I donзЈ? think it was destiny It wasnзЈ? in the stars that day
Good fortune smile On my ascendant star Take head, small talk DonзЈ? trust the stars
I know itзЈ— insufferable Visionary can be so vain To think that somewhere ThereзЈ— a path for you I know itзЈ— make it seem mundane It makes it all seem so mundane
Good fortune smile On my ascendant star Take head, small talk DonзЈ? trust the stars