Anime: Liz to Aoi Tori
ENDING: Songbirds - Homecomings
Fell asleep in a shelter,
Made out of old junk,
After the storm.
No clue where we're flying to,
Feeling so anxious.
Each spring time,
We're flapping about like plastic bags.
The ghosts banished from my diary,
Which I burnt in early summer.
A rustling sound in the corridor,
Somewhere in my heart.
Through the frosted window,
If I was aware of the eyes behind the lens,
How would I sing?
Golden reflections of our life,
In the afternoon sunlight.
Chocolates melting in my pocket.
By making it a song,
Can I keep the memory?
I just came to love it now.
The two lines come close and then get away.
Some easy tricks on Cat's Cradle,
That I can't do so well any more.
On a musical stave,
Seasons pass so fast.
Each spring time,
We're floating there like balloons.
The ghosts banished from my diary,
Which I burnt in early summer.
A rustling sound in the corridor,
Somewhere in my heart.
Through the frosted window,
If I was aware of the eyes behind the lens,
How would I sing?
Golden reflections of our life,
In the afternoon sunlight.
Chocolates melting in my pocket.
By making it a song,
Can I keep the memory?
I just came to love it now.
By making it a song,
Can I keep the memory?
I just came to love it now.
Made out of old junk,
After the storm.
No clue where we're flying to,
Feeling so anxious.
Each spring time,
We're flapping about like plastic bags.
The ghosts banished from my diary,
Which I burnt in early summer.
A rustling sound in the corridor,
Somewhere in my heart.
Through the frosted window,
If I was aware of the eyes behind the lens,
How would I sing?
Golden reflections of our life,
In the afternoon sunlight.
Chocolates melting in my pocket.
By making it a song,
Can I keep the memory?
I just came to love it now.
The two lines come close and then get away.
Some easy tricks on Cat's Cradle,
That I can't do so well any more.
On a musical stave,
Seasons pass so fast.
Each spring time,
We're floating there like balloons.
The ghosts banished from my diary,
Which I burnt in early summer.
A rustling sound in the corridor,
Somewhere in my heart.
Through the frosted window,
If I was aware of the eyes behind the lens,
How would I sing?
Golden reflections of our life,
In the afternoon sunlight.
Chocolates melting in my pocket.
By making it a song,
Can I keep the memory?
I just came to love it now.
By making it a song,
Can I keep the memory?
I just came to love it now.
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