Tomorrow Will Smile Again

The shimmering sun is throwing Fire-golf on our derma, Like it doesn't have head. But forasmuch the cheek of the cloud Is telling us that, It is not unwilling to soak The sun in his fists, We can tell by the lips of braveness that, Tomorrow will smile again. Why is the invisible face of the wind Wearing the whiff of the volcano? Does it mean we're locked up in nether world? If Mr. Wind is not unhappy to feel this way, Then we better ought to find Some bucket to put on. Since there's no place to salt away. But we believe with the lips of braveness, Tomorrow will smile again.