The happier she is, the more it will be her fault;
The sadder I am, the more I will be the victim
While it’s my guilt – it is always me and me
Who cannot get through of his thoughts.
My reasoning has weakened already;
I can only blame my long misery
And myself and myself again
For running in obscurity.
My words are limited;
I wasted so many
But not on her
Not for her.
(I just only wish if I had some more words
Like a thousand or a quadrillion
Turning back time again
To tell you I’m sorry.)