| I reminisce under the late afternoon sky of the pressed flowers I miss so dearly.
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| Back then, I counted down the days with my fingers to the day I would see you.
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| The sky was blue, the good old days when my dreams were shattered.
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| It brings sadness and sorrow. |
| The sin is endless. |
| Not a single sound to be heard. |
| Tonight it is spring.
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| One cold evening I saw her as she stood under the cherry blossom tree,
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| with petals that bloomed too early. |
| This story goes way back.
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| She was beautiful and pretty but there was something about her.
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| She had a very sad face. |
| Her long hair hid her tears of late afternoon.
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| Through the forgotten seasons, this place still reminds me of her.
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| Time has made her disappear, as she was so delicate with her black and white
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| scar.
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| The sky was blue, the good old days when my dreams were shattered.
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| The sin is too deep to bear, as I hear the sound of darkness. |
| Tonight it is spring.
|
| The show booth
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| It was a cold late afternoon and I remember seeing her being colored by people.
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| She couldn’t do anything but cry as her tears bloomed like the petals.
|
| I reminisce under the late afternoon sky of the pressed flowers I miss so dearly.
|
| Back then, I counted down the days with my fingers to the day I would see you.
|
| The late afternoon sky lights the shed. |
| The cherry blossom tree grew in back of it. |
| And underneath the tree,
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| she lies hiding her scar with the sleeve of her shirt hoping it would disappear
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| just for that moment.
|
| The sky was blue, the good old days when my dreams were shattered.
|
| It brings sadness and sorrow. |
| The sin is endless. |
| Not a single sound to be heard. |
| Tonight it is spring |