Welcome to Gaia! :: View User's Journal | Gaia Journals

Until the other side of the dream,
I plan to continue the journey,
and bring you along.
Someone said,
the story called reality
is not the answer.

You can probably see it,
the dim light I'm pointing at.
It may be fleeting, it may be an illusion,
but you can probably see it.

The darkening sky, the teasing wind,
our hands are cold, but
don't let go, I want to walk.
It's no promise, but I believed.
I want call you,
'Scarecrow'

In the bustle of the falsely hazy town,
I am driven away. I feel depressed, but
it's only if a thousand tears were to fall
that it would be the end. Only then.

You can probably hear it, with a nod,
the appropriate music.
It may be small, it may seem to be about to disappear,
but you can probably hear it.

This twinkling star, this strange darkness;
though only halfway, the moon smiles.
I'm not lonely, I'm not sad;
for my sake, you smile.
I want call you,
'Scarecrow'

The darkening sky, the teasing wind,
our hands are cold, but
don't let go, I want to walk.
More than in God, I believe in you.
Probably very soon, probably right in front of my eyes,
I'm not alone; I'm not alone.
This twinkling star, this strange darkness;
though only halfway, the moon smiles.
You can call me,
'Scarecrow'

Until the other side of the dream,
I plan to continue the journey,
and bring you along.