MIMIC LYRIC

I'm so happy.

I turn to the top and will walk.
You must not turn to a bottom.

The woman who came from the country which could be rich of the Far East cried so in the Middle East.

The answer that returned was far from expectation.
If we turn to a bottom and are not careful, I step on a mine and the body.

Therefore we turn to a bottom and must walk.
Because the tomorrow's wind will blow tomorrow, I forget to hate today and sleep well.

Answer which returned was fierce.

Though probably I will come over tomorrow, and probably wind will blow, the wind gives us only a pain.
Wind of morning lets a body freeze and daytime wind lets sand whirl up and smashes my eyes and does not let night wind lets an enemy have a foreboding, and me sleep.

Because we have tomorrow, I make today's day a memory and will shut in it carefully to the depths of a heart.

The answer was dreary again.
Though I will come by all means tomorrow, security greeted tomorrow has me nowhere.

Is a wise remark of a great man the thing which is so valueless?
Are a wise remark and a proverb things passing only in a rich developed nation?

I get thinner, and, for the dissipated children who had eyes, the bread which is muddy than a no matter how worth wise remark and the canned food which it was able to cut in the expiration date are more valuable.

The stupid woman whom I visited from the Far East looks away from reality and is fascinated by oneself when I tell comfortable words.
But at last I understood it now.

When I can save the world poverty that I cannot give off only for money not words.

Even if I will turn into cannabis even if I will turn into bread even if the money will turn into a weapon, as for what can save the world, there is only money.

However, there is not money as I satisfy them to me.
Therefore I pray at least.

They turn to the top, and be impressed by empty blue.
Wind to blow warm them tomorrow.
In light all day long, tomorrow visit both the next and the next all the time.

I transplant cannabis to a potato and aloe, and a rich woman leaves.
When I turned around, children chased it.

I asked it whether they came again.
I promised to come by all means.
I carried used goods of football and cheap accessories with me for a souvenir this time and promised when I came by all means.

They gave a smile to me.

Life of the indeterminate form that a point is not decided for an instant.

I may see it miserably in Japan, but I am purposeless, and he commits murder than guys living by momentum and soaks myself in a drug and sells a body and lives desperately.

I value time for an instant.

When I take care of dirt, it is much deeper, and tomorrow lives than the party who is in high spirits insinserely by now.

Who is happy?
What is happy?

I do not have a qualification to give an answer.
It is reality and Mami whom only it found.

posted by Uzuki Haruha @ 3/09/2006 01:49:00 PM