There are many times, like smoke
A lot of smoke starts from the flowers
The little red eyes shone triumphantly
I know it's tears flowing into the sky
I know. It's a little late now
The flowers are turning into patterns
A delicate water bottle turned into a candle
It's a little late. It's getting dark
Huge flowers stretched out to us
A huge dawn splashed with tears
Colorless, harmless tears of the night
I know. They're still talking about yesterday
They're saying
The bullet hit the copper plate
The sound is gone. There's smoke
There's a roll of sugar paper
Many failed pieces sank in the harbor
It's a little late. The water is turning into illusory dust
Today without time
Above all meek dreams
Light is a stream
It has walked carefully for thousands of years