I’m looking through dirty and moist window
I see the life
There are so much dust [bad word] Trees tilt to the ground from languor
There is a spanless desert behind the window
Not a living soul outside

Around the world and clock of [bad word] the herd of my memories [bad word] the herd of my [bad word] so fast but, but I try to recover shallow details from the past
Clock never will spin in reverse direction
Past illusions of the world are washed off by this dirt in an endless abyss
Remained for me just something that survived
I'll step on a threshold, will follow in the tracks of the last wind

Stepping on a dusty road
I move to nowhere
I go to the sun for saving my soul from cold
I drift around, return to this world.
Why? Then, who I am…

Around the world and clock of [bad word] the herd of my memories