Beauty at its highest but thoughts at they’re lowest. Wonder if I’ll find him in the middle some where in between glory and dreams… Where we could just be free… Realist at its 100 degree weather and when it it’s 30 below out… I’m hoping I’ll find you and you’ll be my truest desire and enlighten my fire catch me before my wax is trickled over and my flame is almost out without a doubt your the realist out… The only dream I’ll never doubt