From which road, which window, I can do the memories When you steal your eyes from my eyes, how can I put your hands in your hands For you who dont know, what kind of sea of your eyes I do Break my tears, I dont call it under your name Good I am not my own hand in this tight tight I want to God with all the bad and good
I have your eyes in the frame, the photo frame that is no longer in my hand Your wish for me, when your photo is no longer a good night I will find it every night.
I am not my own in this tight tight I want to be so bad and good I dont have my own hand in this tight tight God you are very much with all the bad and good
from which road, which windows, what the window, what do you remember. You dont know, what kind of sea of your eyes to be Break my tears, call you under your name.
