Butterfly

Do dreams still exist in this era?
We grow tired of that phrase,
But we still believe in it, do we not?
Lately even that doesn't satisfy me any more

Is the still love in this era?
We grow tired of that phrase, but. . .
Every thing I stuffed in my pocket all along. . . 
Aren't feeling of rage or sorrow . . . 
The song that I sing to myself is always a tune of unclear words. . .  
Even if I trip over I wont stop,
I'll only trust my own heartbeat . . . 

Phrase like I want to see you
Are  very similar to the idle noises in the city
I won't be fool with just  that -- with that. . .  
I'll only trust my own feelings

We will be free!
We will aim for the light and have our wings shine
Even if we lose our freedom to a strong wind
In the wide lonely open sky!
Our hearts won't feel any  regrets . . .

We will be free!

We will cry to our unreached dreams!
Even if people try to take our voice and make us quiver in fear
We will aim for the top and have our wings shine. . .
Just like a butterfly. . .
Even if we loses sight of  our map
In this wide lonely open sky!

We will just go on. . .

We will be free,
Just like a butterfly!