Paroles Way up high Milow

Way up high

[Verse 1: Milow]
I'll tell you a secret
There's no such thing as time and space
The stars and comets
Will survive the human race

[Pre-Chorus: Milow]
What's done is done
Today is seven years since you're gone
I'm doing well so far
I'm still wondering where you are

[Chorus: Milow]
Way up high
Way up high
Way up high
Way up high

[Verse 2: Milow]
I'll tell you my secret
That sunny afternoon in March
Changed my life completely
Turned out to be a brand new start

[Pre-Chorus: Milow]
What's done is done
It's been seven years since you're gone
Tonight I think of you
I know one day I'll join you too

[Chorus: Milow]
Way up high
Way up high
Way up high
Way up high
Way up high
Way up high
Way up high
Way up high

[Bridge: John Koenig]
It's hard not to look at the ground as you walk. To set your sights
low, keep the world spinning and try to stay grounded wherever
you are. But every so often you remember to look up and imagine
the possibilities. Dreaming of what's out there. Before long, you
find yourself grounded once again. Grounded in the sense of
being homebound. Stuck on Earth. The more you look to the sky,
the more you find youself back on Earth, confronting certain
possibilities. It's possible that there are other names for our
planet, that we will never know. That there are constellations
that feature our sun, from an angle we'll never get to see. That
there are many other civilizations hidden beyond the veil of time,
too far away for their light to ever reach us. We dream of other
worlds, and name them after our old discarded gods, and they
seem almost as distant - too far to be seen with the naked eye.
Only ever in artist's renditions. Or a scattering of pixels on a
monitor, with the colors tweaked to add a bit of flair. Even our
own neighbourhood is impossibly vast. We're used to showing
the planets nested together because if we drew them to scale,
they'd be so far apart, they wouldn't fit on the same page. And
even our own moon, that seems to hang so close to Earth. But
still so far away that all the other planets could fit in the space
between them. It's possible our spacesuits won't need treaded
boots ever again. That one day soon we'll tire of wandering and
move back home for good. And we'll get used to watching our
feet as we walk, occasionally stopping to hurl a single probe into
the abyss, like a message in a bottle. Maybe it shouldn't matter if
anyone ever finds it. If nobody's there to know we once lived here
on Earth. Maybe it should be like skipping a stone across the
surface of a lake. It doesn't matter where it ends up, It just
matters that we're here on the shore. Just trying to have fun and
pass the time, and see how far it goes

[Outro: Louis Armstrong]
The primary difficulties that we observed was that there was just
far too little time to do the variety of things that we would have
liked to have done