As bottles swallow the hopeless chord of Cinnamon...

How long can this last, tell me how long can this...
Up there all night up all night, say don't you...

Going through the routine..
going through the routine...

Whistled down the road last night
Not a danger too be seen in my eye sight...

In too the painting we go.
Flowing colors...

Join me in the forests of fire.
Where love and joy burn higher...

He was a wannabe music journalist,
A wannabe musician...

The whispers are getting louder,
The whispers are getting louder...

The sun will rise one last time.
Too the top of cliff plateau I have climbed...

Everything we passed through.
Everything we saw...

Old house, with old objects.
Like a hideaway...

How very much I have loved you.
How I tried, my best too give you the good life...