Someone admire the ones made of clay
Which they were given the gift of a long life
Someone love the ones that are fresh
Which their smell is like the love songs from the sweetest wife
If I have to choose what I like
The ones have flesh and blood blow up my mind

Even their color would faint
Their face would age
But there was once their spirit
Lighted up by the fire of life
If death is coming
Please take me after my blooming night