O Great, Mustannie, the Golden Madan, the Day of the Day Your Death; It is not our past; it is not our past. It is a long time that I and Me are me and me again Grammy; Classic; Carving behind The next time my wounds I wish I had a moment in this noon; the shadow of all my world is my great world You were crying Under the rubble; Which sadness?! The heart of the buds was fountain blood When you sit in the garden; the fate of the doll; the tale of your tale this time to the feast; The man Without you like the stories of my unfinished from me who has been tired without you Your body is not your intimate trunk, and I was defeated like a mirror of you
