Life is like a ruthless knife, which changes our appearance.

Wilt before bloom? I have a dream.

Youth is like a flowing river. It's too late to say goodbye.

Only the numb me was left, without the blood of that year.

Look at the flowers falling in the sky, withering in the most beautiful moment.

Who will remember that the world once came.

Life is like a ruthless knife, which changes our appearance.

Wilt before bloom? I have a dream.

Youth is like a flowing river. It's too late to say goodbye.

Only the numb me was left, without the blood of that year.

Look at the flowers falling in the sky, withering in the most beautiful moment.

Who will remember that the world once came.