I miss a time when I heard it from friends
It was written in a book
It was played on a record player
It was danced, sung, recited, spoken
Published, felt, decorated, told
But I wasn't there
When will the longing
For what we didn't experience pass?
If it happens, it seems like it's already gone, but when you come back
Come back because it has your face, it has to do with your story
When will the longing
For what we didn't experience pass?
Black A more than perfect rite
Every time, every moment that has passed
If it passes by, it loses its meaning
If it doesn't make sense, it's because it has expired
It has expired

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