The wind blows by me,
The breeze dances and churns,
By me the sun burns,
We fly on, as if we are free,
The day goes on,
As if nothing happened.
But when I glide through the city of clouds,
I cannot, but hold
Memories which made me proud,
But now make me shiver with cold.
I am lonely, but my memories warm,
I smile, but the wind storms,
Now, I think to myself,
I really wish
There is a heaven.
I do not know where you lay,
Nor do I know where I shall stay,
The time I decay,
Will it still be day?
Will you still be there?
By then I will have my share.
I really wish
There is a heaven.
We do not have hands which touch,
But we have wings to embrace.
In heaven, will it still be such?
Or will we leave without a trace?
Ah, life is good,
Memories, my treasure
Heaven, our utopia.
