Sound also doesn't reach.
Reality passed me by, along with the tears
Sinking lower into the bubbles.
Goodbye wavers towards the end of the watercolour
On nights when the moon sleeps there are no stars either.
If the flower of my dreams scatters, I'll embellish the future with it.
It doesn't matter that it's still a bus if I wish for it to bloom.
The mirage of a dancing butterfly, harboring a secret,
A distant promise like mist.
Yesterday and tomorrow and the uncertain present.
Go around to where you are, merry-go-round.
The feelings that don't reach, along with the writing paper,
Persuading myself that someday they should reach
Quivering lips conveying the words,
There's only one thing for certain, just my treasured memories.
The brilliant season adds colouring.
Go toward where the light shines and run through it.
If there are feelings you can't put into words,
let's give a performance of a song, make your heart bloom.
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