You don’t even have a hearing
But I tell you just in case anyway
If I leave this place and you are left here
Always stay chimerical

It’s not just the winters that cause frost
Or gloomy blurry autumns that make you lost
My womb is not as gloomy as this bed
It’s more like a tomb when you’re on earth

The good ones make no child

You don’t even have the force of seeing
But I show just in case anyway
Without fantasy you’ll go down the drain
Always stay utopian

And I wish you hot summers of excess
And irrational springtime fondness
Until then make my womb your favorite bed
I can’t handle the thought that you’ll get hurt