seasons die one por one,
a sober man walking in a bustling city,
isnt it too unromantic to look up at the sky here,
its as though am living as transculent shadow,
unsure if i can call who i am me,
will the clouds part if a cry in the rain,
cause am a transuclent shadow admist a boisterious summer,
saluations;for this is a break up song to my loathsome life am filled with lament and wrecked with grief and although the sun may not shine on me,
my song still goes on.


Seasons come back again one por one