Even something as small as an apple

It's simple and somehow complex

Sweet and divine, the perfect design

Can I speak to the architect?

And there's a canyon that cuts through the desert

Did it get there because of a flood?

Was it devised? Or were you surprised

When you saw how grand it was?

Was it thought out at all or just paint on a wall?

Is there anything that you regret?

I don't understand, are there blueprints or plans?

Can I speak to the architect?

Somеtimes I look in the mirror

And wish I could make a rеquest

Could I pray it away? Am I shapeable clay?

Or is this as good as it gets?

One day, you're on top of the mountain

So high that you'll never come down

Then the wind at your back carries ember and ash

That it burns your whole house to the ground

Is it thought out at all or just paint on a wall?

Is there anything that you regret?

I don't understand, are there blueprints or plans?

Can I speak to the architect?

I thought that I was too broken

And maybe too hard to love

I was in a weird place, then I saw the right face

And the stars and the planets lined up

Does it happen by chance? Is it all happenstance?

Do have any say in this mess?

Is too late to make some more space?

Can I speak to the architect?

This life that we make, is it random or fate?

Can I speak to the architect?

Is there an architect?