Opening signal
To your sad real face to look up at from the bottom In the fact that is indistinct for the past that burnt out
For the behavior that is dirty as for them in the reality that eludes all the signal of the opening neatly, and was out of order In fresh blood streaming down the glasswork which was about to be broken
The child who had eyes to suppress a voice, and to have been glaring from the dark room hears a gunshot The tears dry out, too and see nothing and wait for him of the fantasy from the front
For the behavior that is dirty as for them in the reality that eludes all the signal of the opening neatly, and was out of order In fresh blood streaming down the glasswork which was about to be broken
Even as for anything being injured to the blade of the excuse not to come out further I am exhausted so as not to feel a pain, and the sense disappears, and even the fear cries
For the behavior that is dirty as for them in the reality that eludes all the signal of the opening neatly, and was out of order In fresh blood streaming down the glasswork which was about to be broken
HP
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