I sing my own songs.
In the terrible smoke of the coal-fired power plant
In the complex organization of gearbox
In the kiss of the grinding wheel
In the operation of that social civilization
I sing my own songs.
I sing my own songs.
That is, unfamiliar and unskilled.
I am a child of etude.
Willing to join all the singing teams
In order not to let the normative people know
I sing my own songs.
I sing, sing my own songs.
Until the world regained its prehistoric loneliness.
A slender moon
Coming towards me from the seaside.
Ask softly: Why?
You sing your own song.
The land is curved.
The land is curved.
I can't see you.
I can only see from a distance.
The blue sky in your heart
Blue? True blue
Blue is language.
I want to make the world happy.
The smile froze in my mouth.
Give me a cloud.
Erase the sunny time
My tears need tears.
My sun needs sleep.
A peddler peddling along the street
At the corner.
Spread a waterproof tarpaulin
There is a road ahead.
They are very sensitive.
It's a spider on the internet.
They are at a loss.
Is the prey in the net?