In that sense, when you pour the color of pain on the wings of the butterfly,
You wait for me in the rain, in my arrival
The hopes of the wanderers cry out in the dark of the night,
Suddenly any wishes should be arranged banned.
 
I went to one day in the prison town of endless,
Any night in the house of the youth of the old hope of the wildlife
Where toxic conversations of drunk supplements
There is a strange courtesy of an overwhelming procession.