To tell you the truth.
I don’t know what to do.
Many things have come to my mind.
Everyday I suspect myself to be blind.
I have seeing so many sunrise and sunset.
I even dream about going to you by a Jet.
That’s what makes dream all so pretty.
To tell you the truth.
I don’t know what I want to do.
I once believed in the spell of joy.
The reason was love from a boy.
Made me so strong and concrete.
Every morning I wakeup I felt so complete.
That’s what makes dreams all so pretty.
To tell you the truth.
I feel like throw away everything that mattered to me into the sky.
Because I’m tired of asking questions why.
To hold on to feelings that never existed.
Love comes, love leaves, 23 years of bubbling romances.
I liked it like champagne, makes you dizzy and enjoy.
At the end, I woke up with a big headache and in vain.
A pair of hands, been torn by the heat of love.
That’s what makes dream all so pretty.
To tell you the truth.
I dislike socializing with fake, phony creatures.
Don’t tell me what I can do or what I can’t do.
My life will not be doomed.
By few words, that came out unclear from your dirty mouth.
Don’t end up like the moth.
They fly into the flames, because they are too blind to see what’s ahead.
If you are not evil, then leave lies.
Leave everything that had bothered you for so long.
To tell you the truth.
I want to, I really want to take a chance.
I want to jump into a pool of poisoned apples.
I might just take a bite.
Later I will fly away with a kite.
That’s what makes dream all so so pretty.
文章定位：
