It seems to be boring, and I sing the song of the glory heard in something.
The sound of the evening.
That is especially cruel today.
A weak bird seems to be a myth.
No, there is no answer yet.
Though I slept for a short time,
a body is rather heavy.
I should sing the song which wasn't known.
The other side which a rainbow stretches
what I think of across while it is uneasy .
I tend to be sick.
Though I have a wing.
The sky which I want to fly to is a little far.
A worthless word .
You have hero handling given with a stolen word.
"I can sympathize." .
On earth, in what?
It comes the memory which has the eye
whose unlimited sheep which removed a shadow is blue to take it and to meet me.
Because a throat aches.
What are you hoping for, or what do I want?
Still it doesn't answer on me.
However, as for me .
