Fragment scenery is my amoureuse.
I had no choice but to cry.
The lighting was a smoking cigarette.
Is I over W?
Oh, I suffer.
I play.
Slippers are not the same as the sweets.
Just how is it that you expect me to cry?
Thinking of the lonely fields, thinking of the lonely snow
day, I do not think about my skin.
I am a rigid body against memory.
Is my dream, as opposed to the fact
that you should have hit my knee saying,
why don't you sing together?
Really, a cane.
You are lonely and famous.
What do I do?
At last when I varied, it was a snowy landscape.