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  • 作词 : Andres Waldura
    Strange words pass by
    no sentence or sense
    they're not meant for me
    incessant suspense

    I dare not to ask
    or participate
    each glance seems to bother
    my thoughts deviate

    I wish it was autumn
    your hand on my cheek
    soft winds, golden sunbeams
    a song, distant, weak
  • 作词 : Andres Waldura
    Strange words pass by
    no sentence or sense
    they're not meant for me
    incessant suspense

    I dare not to ask
    or participate
    each glance seems to bother
    my thoughts deviate

    I wish it was autumn
    your hand on my cheek
    soft winds, golden sunbeams
    a song, distant, weak