The moon is half. So am I
In the wintry night,
remembering lowly
the stories of lonely
of the poorest time
with no one beside
to sing a song of season
I felt my life treason.
The moon is half. So am I
In the wintry night,
remembering lowly
the stories of lonely
of the poorest time
with no one beside
to sing a song of season
I felt my life treason.