The bird, also the cage, my co -winter, and the jumping season You just went out of this house but you didnt say anything You did not say you in the larynx of a song Flying in the good air I am tired and sad and alone Home The Spring of Paper My House I didnt satisfy you. Finally I stayed I get used to the pain Separation perhaps from me, I Make the Strait My Strait, I Look at you Traditional, I A Season of Sadness I get used to the pain Separation perhaps from me, I make my Strait, my heart is the Strait for you
