If my hands weren't there
Like I saw in the stream
Of the drawings been made

On a full colour screen
If they weren't to be found
Then what else could I be


If your hands weren't there
Like I saw in my dreams

And the poets we made
Had all gone, disappeared
Then what else

Then what else could I be

If your hands and my hands

Strolled together around
If they were to make friends
We'd be possibly up


To escape from this world
From this no past land


If I looked in the windows
While walking pass through

If I stared at the willows
With my seven black truths
If my eyes were to see

What belongs to your mind

If you'd like, keep perceiving

What lies on my back
And your eyes will shine
Through the glass of my wine

And the willows, the windows
The pillows, and your mouth


If your hands and my hands
Strolled together around
If they were to make friends

We'd be possibly up

To escape from this world

From this no past land