2021.04.11.
A spilt story from the sky
The sound of the clock tower bell is flowing through the city.If the fog clears, open the window.
Shadows grow on the stone pavement.
They're footsteps called love.
You can't hide it from my eyes.
You can't hide even the smallest things.
You can't hide. Eventually a happy end will be
posted to your mailbox.
They're stories spilled from the sky.
What are you looking at with your black eyes.
What is your green heart reflecting.
I can fly anywhere under this wide sky.
Let me hear your voice
It's okay if it is a dream you had this morning.
Let me hear your dreams
Let me hear about them
at the usual cafe table.
They're stories spilled from the sky.
You can't hide it from my eyes.
You can't hide even the smallest things.
You can't hide. Eventually a happy end will be
posted to your mailbox.
They're stories spilled from the sky.