Hirake

The body is the scar of your mind,
The scar turns into a wind of pain.
It passes mountains after mountains,
It passes the cities and my country.
O’wind, o’wind,
Oh, oh, oh, wind, oh, oh…
Oh, o’wind.
But when it passed the world nine times,
The wind turns into a breeze.
O’wind, oh, oh, oh…
O’wind.
Wind