I Wish To Be A Dream Of Your Eyes,
And Then Get Break.
I Wish To Be A Tear Of Your Eyes,
Then Fell Down And Get Break,
I ‘M A Feeling Of Soft Heart,
I ‘M Not A Diamand Of A Ring,
I Want The Age Of Flower,
After Spreading Scent I Die.
I ‘M The Song Of The Travller’s Lips.
I ‘M A Composition On Water.
My Luck Is N’t Tht Bad
So I Don’t Get The Shed Of Hairs
Friends I Don’t Know Why Still
I Want To Make Up With My Angry Friends,
And To Get Angry With Them