The wooden bed of my room has your heart again Broken Broken Breaky with his tone tone The child is like my heart. The corner is a corner Where to follow you? I want your wood bed Dont want my tears My beds you want Dont want my tears
wet hands and wings of glass curtain and yolk The windshield of my rain is my heart Looking at me No Crying on my shadow walls Then no one called my baby name I didnt care about my cold hands except you I want your woods I dont want my tears I dont want your wood I dont want my tears Youre
