| Long the shores of a silent stream
|
| I’m picking up pieces of my life
|
| Finding out I was living my own dream
|
| Beginning once again
|
| I searched for themes
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| That I never knew before
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| It’s like roaming a forest in winter
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| Searching buds buried in snow
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| I learnt new languages
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| New forms to proclaim
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| All the will to be so sincere
|
| Not lying to myself again
|
| Roaming through forest’s trees
|
| Creating a white snow trail on fallen
|
| Leaves
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| Oh Mother Moon
|
| Illuminate my return
|
| 'cause the road I took is so obscure
|
| Sinking and drowning in a sea of fears
|
| Showing compassion to the moan
|
| Already happened in day long gone
|
| The silk dilemma is the key, it’s still for me
|
| One by one the lights fade out
|
| The fright-night covers all with her cloak
|
| You cannot name the colour of the dark
|
| I fall into a dream
|
| From the lands lying at the end of World
|
| I am bringing this dress as a gift, it is
|
| Made with the purest silk
|
| She smiled at me
|
| She never wore the dress
|
| Touching the fabric was like holding
|
| Nothing in your hand
|
| Roaming through forest’s trees
|
| Creating a white snow trail on fallen
|
| Leaves
|
| Oh Mother Moon
|
| Illuminate my return
|
| 'cause the road I took is so obscure
|
| Sinking and drowning in a sea of fears
|
| Showing compassion to the moan
|
| Already happened in day long gone
|
| The silk dilemma is the key
|
| Hold my hand — 'till the sun set off
|
| I’m proud of what I’ve done
|
| At least the days I’ve spent are so totally
|
| Unique |