Softly flowing
the dried out coulds are passing by
I saw myself just watching them vanish
Need to die
On top of the castle of sand that I built
from the stars I assembled
My tiny pryer spills out
into waves that lay in waiting
To sweep me off my feet
A song that was terribly translated and reworeded but is pretty much the same (in topic anways)
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Buria
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Fairvay
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