Despair is a sweet trap, a closed door
Since the heart is a battlefield, it spares no one
With their clockwork hearts being manipulated by fate
The tin-plated soldiers begin the slaughter
The rocking cradle that never witnessed love, burns out in the sleeping forest
Even if joy of coexistance disappears…far away
Believe in tenderness…forgive everything
In order to love, we must be able to share with and understand each other
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