Let's open the window
He's a quiet young man in the neighborhood
Stand the whole part of the rally
They're starting with the lightning eyes
Cleaned hands first
He's running from the bottom of the chest
I want to live
I want to live
I want to live
I heard that woman in that molding house
Sometimes it's a letter to anyone who wrote
From life to poem.
No rice, young man
Can't get he's a dream girl
Life might be his different
So it's going and telling the heart from the deep
I want to live
I want to live
I want to live
Sometimes the wet grape of the morning
If it were to walk on a gentle foot
The black and white sari fell
Sleeping is a strange woman
Sur.ru, a protest of Abinashi poem
Life might be his different
So it's going and telling the heart from the deep
I want to live
I want to live.
I want to live
