The grasshopper hated winter. She could feel it approaching, with its gusts of cold air that left her continuously shivering, and knew there was nothing she could do about it.
The few insects she'd
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They walked along the trail
in their own rhythm
even the flies landed on their faces
I appreciate the moomoo
To ignore the human
To do what they want
To embrace the nature
I wanna befriend with the moomoo
Although
I cannot find my rhythm
The flies hover
my realm
She sat on the bench
in her own realm
even the gloom shaded her face
I question my moomoo
For the smile she gives
For the restraint she has
For the apathy I have
I didn't glance back with my moomoo
Although
I have intruded her realm
Melancholy composes
my rhythm
in their own rhythm
even the flies landed on their faces
I appreciate the moomoo
To ignore the human
To do what they want
To embrace the nature
I wanna befriend with the moomoo
Although
I cannot find my rhythm
The flies hover
my realm
She sat on the bench
in her own realm
even the gloom shaded her face
I question my moomoo
For the smile she gives
For the restraint she has
For the apathy I have
I didn't glance back with my moomoo
Although
I have intruded her realm
Melancholy composes
my rhythm