When the clock tick-tocks
It's time to get out of the box
Just as the rooster crows
Gotta make some toasts

When the sun greets the lands
I'll warm your hands
Hold it tightly as possible
Chuckling, hearing your stomach grumble

We'll spend the whole antemeridian
Blissfully, with no plans
Sipping tea with our favorite cups
No distance-no gaps

                //nicaila