I was born on this star to meet you to protect you.
The prism which begins to turn around at the moment when I woke.
I was born now to love you to embrace you.
There are both the lie and the truth in oneself entirely.
I do not lose in days leaving a heart.
I will regain gentleness and love once again.
In the days that are a marionette, I am at a loss between beginning and infinite narrows.
The power to cut the thread which got twisted up into is still unexploited in your heart.
I live to feel warmth without forgetting tears.
The system which is incised on own far-off memory.
I do not become coward in believing a human being.
I stare straight and will change tomorrow.
A heart wavers in the back contrived dream of the eyes of the mechanism doll.
The courage to throw away a rusted screw begins to already wake for my heart.
In the days that are a marionette, I am at a loss between beginning and infinite narrows.
The power to cut the thread which got twisted up into is still unexploited in your heart.
A heart wavers in the back contrived dream of the eyes of the mechanism doll.
The courage to throw away a rusted screw begins to already wake for my heart.
The prism which begins to turn around at the moment when I woke.
I was born now to love you to embrace you.
There are both the lie and the truth in oneself entirely.
I do not lose in days leaving a heart.
I will regain gentleness and love once again.
In the days that are a marionette, I am at a loss between beginning and infinite narrows.
The power to cut the thread which got twisted up into is still unexploited in your heart.
I live to feel warmth without forgetting tears.
The system which is incised on own far-off memory.
I do not become coward in believing a human being.
I stare straight and will change tomorrow.
A heart wavers in the back contrived dream of the eyes of the mechanism doll.
The courage to throw away a rusted screw begins to already wake for my heart.
In the days that are a marionette, I am at a loss between beginning and infinite narrows.
The power to cut the thread which got twisted up into is still unexploited in your heart.
A heart wavers in the back contrived dream of the eyes of the mechanism doll.
The courage to throw away a rusted screw begins to already wake for my heart.