• A person to love me,
    Like they consider me a singing tree,
    Love is useless when used to think,

    I hear whispers as I dip in my ink.

    What I was doing was writing a letter,
    And it would be to those who treat me better.
    Now and then I wanted to die,
    This world seems like a whole lie.
    Even at day I feel afraid,
    Dipping slowly I wrote on.

    Why did I do this?
    And why did I kiss?
    So what I wrote was this:

    "Singing for your hopes I walk,
    One step after another,
    Maybe we should go and talk,
    Even with birds who flutter!
    On Sunday come to see me
    -Negatori
    Eager as can be!"

    This was a foolish trait
    On which upon I feel my fate

    Listen to me once again
    On this day I lift my hand
    Vines and flowers grow by ten
    Ends and beginnings in this sand

    Maybe someday a dream come true?
    Eager I am to hear from you!