Walking everywhere, in the streets,
During the day, my shadow won't appear.
Face down the stepside, I watch my feet moving forward,
without knowing where I'm going, or where I should be going.
When I do talk to poeple, there are shadows,
many shadows, as if I couldn't breath.
In this black frame, my shadowless is this silly white little spot.
But in fact, I cannot breath. Not the same air, not in the same place.
Suddently, the stars in the night makes my shadow growing,
throughout the town's colorful lights.
Then I breath, then I chill out, then I live my own present.
After the big breath through my shadow night,
everyone's sun slowly comes up, and their shadows comes down.
Everyone's but mine. I don't exist, as a shadow without its body.
All I feel is: my shadow's vanishing somewhere, beyond the stars.
But tell me where the Hell is my sunrise?