My eighteenth summer rain was poised to come!
But I'd not waited for it; I was not born in a wasteland either.
My infatuation swelled up for you, to sing praises for you!
You oscillates around me, arousing me, to swamp myself to this
texture
of your smell and little rejuvenation
When you come in my repose
It shall refute my talentless state.
I don't know why -- why I wanna dance with you and die
Sucked into your entropy, and taken away by you
And I'm not sad
And I'm not mad
And I've felt it many times
Because I know you'll go away
Like you did many times
Before when I was a child.
How do I know when you touch me --
