How come humanity has no balance with negative and positive?
Can't we hold onto ourselves, eternally take in the morning air?
As nights grow weak each kettle shall break, yearning tomorrow,
facing the facts, yet everyone is so shallow. Open a window,
crawl under the meadow, closer to a scenical weather, blissful
like no other, what moves her could grow feathers, we tend to
slither like your gardens in pleasant winter. A call from you,
and blew my river. Dancing under the cinder, moonlight free
me, now I shall travel, grow instinctively, burn the mistletoe tree
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