ひらがな女王

File: hqueen2017.png (2MB, 1474x1396px) Image search: [Google]

2MB, 1474x1396px

Like shadows of shadows, ghosts with film strips,
Past faint trapped in old slide mother
Sitting still in the apartment when sifting more photos
He was a sense of hope before, a child they were surrounded.
"It is a pity"

And, I am afraid that fate is on the street while the topic let me sleep.

He says: "I am involved and giving life.
Fraying, cutting, and late with rent. When
Now, nothing is meaningless except for benches and pianos,
When I press a chord, my feeling of order is coming. "
And he plays,

And it swells and breaks, but what it takes time to make sounds like my life.

But this time he is fulfilling it, lively
I come through windows and outside.
And even he may admit some melodies to it, but then can not he harmonize for some reason?
This is how the city got its own song, but he can not play together.
He sees music, as they fly, but always plays them wrong.
And it gets fuzzy, distorted, and gains heat in the bathroom
As a light bunker, he pushed orange in push
His hand. She falls on the floor, with a smile, as she gets along
"It sounds a bit like a tool."

With the sound of choir, and the drum beat ham of life as an art form etc.
Phantom Baton Troll, keep on moving us in silence Fire in the city,
I will keep pushing the pace of our feet.

And all people who seem to fit better in the choir do not notice singing
And when you think that they can not find it to finally hear torture by chords
The method sings.

When you sing the wrong things, everything starts to fall apart.
It began to sound like heard, crashing on noncompetitive notes as feedback starts to decline
But it does not feel they are consistent with each other.

There are melodies around,
I tried to find harmony,
It seems that nothing moves,
It seems to fit anything.

There are melodies around,
I tried to find harmony,
It seems that nothing moves,
I do not fit anything.