To Wander In The Fields Of Flowers,

We Came Whirling Out Of Nothingness, Scattering Stars Like Dust... The Stars Made A Circle, And In The Middle, We Dance.

The Ground Submits To The Sky And Suffers Whatever Comes. Tell Me, Is The Earth Worse For Giving In Like That?

Open Your Eyes, For This World Is Only A Dream.

I Am A Drunkard From Another Kind Of Tavern. I Dance To A Silent Tune. I Am The Symphony Of Stars.

The Heart Has Its Own Language. The Heart Knows A Hundred Thousand Ways To Speak.