So, this feeling, this feeling which reminds me of a poet who passed the street years before. Having a walk during the Friday night through the darkness beyond, and looking at the lighthouse that illuminates my dreams time by time. I think the poet just left here in his blue raincoat, he was trying to go clear. I have no idea if he ever went clear or not, but he passed this street in his famous blue raincoat and I’m just following his footsteps. Such a feeling, such a bloody feeling pushing you toward your way into fantasy, just follow the white lines ahead, you’re going to cry out your dreams in which the birds surround you and sing with you.
La la la
La la la
Oh, I’m still keeping the lock of hair I was going to gift to my lover