My heart is involved in a strange feeling The whole world has been with me strangers I broke my heart I gave me brush sir
here a piece of infantry sitting in every corner of an angel The blade of your fragrance and I was not I am being my eyes in your house. with my nostalgic tears Agajun a simple look becomes a pioneer to my endless feeling of safety Punishing in your rush without someone Big Pray for my heart. Tonight
You are the guarantor of the wounded deer pigeons in your heart You have a great embrace sir Poor.
