An adhesive plaster is come off and a scar stares at me from there.
To the Mediterranean Sea, to stuff our mouths with pastas under the sea.
No different then as now, only to be bewildered, her secret box is there.
On the ocean current, to entrust my wife who has gone, I'm in absent-minded.
Though some birds are tweeting, be narrow-minded it is, koeda chocolates you eat.