Dear my friend
I wrote a letter to you of heaven.
Is not the single life in that place lacking?
Is not there the insufficient thing?
What is a thing wanting?
Do you think of me once a day?
Is not there the insufficient thing?
What is a thing wanting?
Do you think of me once a day?
The flower which I planted together opened a flower at this
time.
You suffer from a soft breeze and wrap me up.
You become the light and lead me.
You become the light and lead me.
May I hear only 1 in last moments?
Do I see me from your place?
Do I see me from your place?
I am now and want to tell you a lot of, to thing.
Probably it may be late. . .
Please receive this feeling.
Dear My Friend ...
By kokia
