It was a sun what i saw beyond the mountains
The roads that i went on were just like fire
The hands which i hold friendship hidden in my bosom
The roads that i walked on were just like fire
The rivers boiling inside of us were volcanos
As if it was boiling, hopes were gushing
What happened to our sun? Why it is not rising?
In the long, far away nights morning never comes
Here is our story, always like this
Hopes are always roads in the nights, vanished.
Here is our story, ends up here
Light becomes a road in the dark, vanished.