I
came from a past where singing never stops
A land far far away where the green pasture never ends In this world, I'm searching for my heaven I have once borne a pair of heavy wings I
let the Season to take care of the leaves falling and flowers blosoming
The
signless ages became my face
Can
you hear the echo of the sea in my voice?
That's because I have a heaven of my own |
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Unless the Lord builds the house, its builders labor in vain. Unless the Lord watches over the city, the watchmen stand guard in vain. - Psalm 127:1