Infected Mushroom Infected Rock
Traveling far, feeling close, she takes herself to
wandering roads.
Tasting from inside, tasting from outside,
Touching, not touching... without running.
knowing... That life is a rewritten script,
and only the time shows similar note,
In a world hunted by ghosts, she keeps herself out of
worrying.
She lifts her eyes to the sky, with a smile across her
lips, In an attempt to check she can still touch the
water.
...To see...the way...that will return...
...me...to her...
