I heard the echo, from the valleys and the heart.Open to the lonely soul of sickle harvesting.Repeat outrightly, but also repeat the well-being of eventually swaying in the desert oasis.I believe I am.Born as the bright summer flowers.
I heard the echo, from the valleys and the heart.Open to the lonely soul of sickle harvesting.Repeat outrightly, but also repeat the well-being of eventually swaying in the desert oasis.I believe I am.Born as the bright summer flowers.