Then the song begins
A story is born
about an old person who used to be young
When the physical body falls
Our songs are emancipated
Our stories are being written
On stars
in skies
spread into the universe
Who would catch the glimpse of it
to make a new song to sing
to read a new story to tell?
I am ready to fall down
I am willing to be buried or burned
to be a song for you, my dear!
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