Shadows run over the sewage
But Are still clean,
Love is running into the vein
But Is still shameless dust as the genes,
They see those dirty pictures through their naked eyes
But Are is said dirty,
Where she portraits her talent making some hard choice.
What a twist?
The twinkling nights never end until the moon is seen bright
And Rest in the peace is hard to find in the graveyard of dull belief.
Now, the pale and gloomy can be seen in the crashed cemetery,
Holding the fragrance of ranked light
But Still, here is one sun which still rise.
And the origin of yards cool us with bad lies
Now there is no boogeyman left to step outside
And Still, the Shadow is running into sewage and love is shameless even if it’s run into veins all days and nights…