I saw a man crying alone in myself.
He was sitting on the chair and here I am telling you the story we have.
The window's there and the future's rare,
we looked at those from our eyes,
"I was there before, then the sadness's getting out", he says.
And right now, I see myself not to look at back.
A man has gone and I pretend that the past was fake.
All of the memories also out from the track.
Here I am the last one trying to finish the run I take.