And I don’t mind that everything’s a mess   Right now, I could care less   And I believe, that a bit of harm never hurt anyone   I’ve plotted out the route to take us into a place kinda like   Where we’re now   Except this time I think you’re gonna need a pair of mittens for the frozen air   I would gladly navigate things   You look out for sharp rocks   But I do believe I’ve found that illusive Bering strait   And if you’d like to we could   So we’ll sit there, and stare into thin air   Light that match, and watch it flare   And kiss hello, to a ground laid with snow   Where nothing’s left, but frozen air   There won’t be any green or fear on trees   Or even below our frozen toes   But the tundras match the clouds at night   And on a clear day you can see, next Saturday   Build our home out of snow, in the first glacier we find   But I do believe I’ve fallen into a nasty crevice laced with ice    So now what