My looks so grand from the distance that you need to touch
It gives a vision of the simple but it isn't much
I won't be fooled by its touch of emotional supply
The scent of a feel in heavy love we dry
The cold in the bare grass so delicate by one's eye
It's where we can't rely the look to grand
Almost forgotten the way we used to live for play
To be accepted, I must blend into convention's way
and sing the only wishing ways
I won't be fooled by it's touch of emotional supply
The scent of a feel in heavy love we dry
The cold in the bare grass so delicate by one's eye
It's where we can't rely the look to grand