It was in my hand, but it slipped between my fingers
Is it careless or doesn't care at all
The original in the eye, but in tears
Is it past or never happened
Who painted the heart on the empty tree
If ever
Why is there no trace on the road in front of the window
If beauty must be in the past
Don't forget to pack your memory when you leave
By the way, close the window that was opened for you
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