DESCRIPTION:
A best-laid plan, no one seems to follow a best-laid plan, memories are searching for me.

My best laid-plan, drive along the coast of a seaside town, somewhere overlooking the sea.

Like the hunters in the snow, tired of the people far below a weird old worthless smile, hides a crime the sheep began to know
that all your best-laid plans are like a crown that’s made of thorn, like a ghostly ship at dawn.

A best laid plan, listen to the song of an ice cream van, tells you how to follow the breeze.

My best laid plan, no-one hears the voice to the pair of hands, no-one seems to care for a dream.

Like the hunters in the snow, traveling by the winter clouds they go, a near miss best laid plan, carrying the fox they seem to know that all your best laid plans are like a ghostly ship at dawn, like a crown that’s made of thorn, drop the anchor in the storm

Under the beach under the boat under the sand another language maybe I will understand.

A best laid plan, climb upon the board take a best placed hand, memories are waiting for me.