To the burnt home-land Had bid farewell and Lead by a hand of tree leaf Had run off Such thing as an anxiety over a unseen future We did not have a thing as spare time feel it Dry tree-leaves lightly flutter about A dry tree-wither-er breathes softly Never letting joined hands go Counting hours, we run Bearing the lives of man accross the board What will you spin out with ...Vocaloid Kaito Kaito D