I don't forget believing. I am just tired of believeing. So I believe in only butterflies because they have no fer of death. Don't believe in only butterflies. Every love for butterflies.
Oneday I couldn't find myself in a mirror. but I could find my ghost there. He whisperd I'm not your ghost, you are my ghost.
Tell me the day butterflies are gone. I want to know the truth. I can't give up true love.
Red love shed blue tears. Blue love shed red tears.
Blue blood, Red love. Red eyes, blue love.
burning butterflies.
[The buttered clock]
Please I bug you to stop molesting.
Again tonight she recollects the remembrance from the past and it becomes a nightmare and her eyes are filled with tears.
Bettered clock
The precious clock made from wood is battered.
The stuffed doll that kept her company everynight got thrown away. The book given from her parents filled with flowers got slit into pieces.
However much she screams in her mind the grievous voice will not be heard.
She grew up, and strolled around to look for her place. Oneday she meets a scared white horse in the meadow.
She ran across the extensive fields with grace, on the horse that healed it scars. With the transparent scents and the wind of the fields, a nostalgic feeling ran through her. Then she smiled with a blush like a little girl.
[My beautiful one]
White emrges into the sky that is painted pitch black. The color becomes the moon and looks down at me. Before long the promise with you becomes a lie and pauses like a paper crane.
The moon knew the truth and it's eyes were getting red. Those are eyes which expresses love with hatred like mine. I close my eyes and touched your wanded profile softly. When can you be my beautiful one?
Melodies from my fingers don't know the exit and continue th esame phrases on and on. Closinig my eyes in this endless world. Refrains of melodies in my head wounds my fingers.