That summer day, my face was as bright as the sun
No butterflies in my stomach, no being displayed
A joyous occasion, as if it were Christmas
We rode the big steel yellow monster for a time
I begin to smell the air as it races past
The promised land, was in my boney little hands
I erupted out of my shackles and moved on
locked on the greatest wonder the land had produced
transparent to my glare, but lively to my touch
as if I were an old man’s hairline, I recede
my heart has the rhythm of a drum, who can hear
a symbol of hope, clasp my arm, I breath again

[gghg]

さむい ですね。