A beam of light fills the sky,
Its color illuminating it alll,
We are not ready for the ball,
Hanging way up high,
We are all just waiting for the fall,
Goodby,
They all say that up above,
As they leave the love,
It’s as easy as slipping of a glove,
A glove that just won’t budge,
When the evening is over,
Everyone had returned home,
The mourning for the people,
It has only just begun,
The sun rise...