Every little thing talk
to me.
The little butterflies, the blue sky.
The sun talks to me.
I can't believe that you don't want me to want the stars.
Haven't you see how they shine?!
Can I take them without the moon?
I'm not even asking for a first and last dance with her...

I only wanna dance a bals with the stars in your eyes, 'till I die.
Can I place them there?
Will their grey light burn me up?
I know their light have a shallow taste....
Why did you let that desire get into my heat?
I'm sorry for saying this shallows words,
but I want some grey light in my sky.
Is that so bad?
Please, just stay, can we dance in the grey stardust?


