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in words gathered by the wind My voice bounded into a cloud-carried tomorrow My heart trembled in the moon-swayed mirror Soft tears spilled with a stream of stars Isn't it beautiful? If we could walk, hand in hand, I'd want to go to your town, your home, in your arms I dream of being against your chest my body in your keeping disappearing into the evening Words halted by wind are a gentle illusion A tomorrow torn by clouds is the voice of a distant place My heart that had been in a moon-blurred mirror that flowed Those stars that trembled and spilled cannot hide my tears Isn't it beautiful? If we could walk, hand in hand, I'd want to go to your town, your home, in your arms My dream of your face that I softly touch melts in the morning | |
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