The Circus of the Wind
When I opened the window, the wind cut through, refreshing. It reminds me of something, laughter is heard, a lonely feeling, distant memories, from the depths of the heart, awaiting a new beginning. The wind cuts through, the wind cuts through, the wind cuts through.
In the night sky, the circus of the wind dances, adorned with stars, soaring through the emptiness. One, two, three, the wind carries a variety of colorful dreams. As I drift off within them, a marvelous performance unfolds before my eyes. Lions breathe fire, elephants ride bikes, acrobats dance in the air. The night sky sparkles brightly, and someone's presence bounces on a trampoline.
When I opened the window, the wind cuts through, laughter is heard, happy memories, the wind cuts through, laughter is heard, from the depths of the heart, the end approaches, the wind cuts through, the end approaches. The wind cuts through, the wind cuts through, the wind cuts through.
The circus of the wind creates rainbows, illuminating the stars. In the large tent on the outskirts of town, the hair of a tightrope-walking girl dances sadly in the wind, birds descend, and the aerial swing sways with nostalgia. Eventually, stardust scatters, and by the time dawn smiles, the vanishing circus of the wind. One, two, three, vanishing colorful dreams. Amidst the howling wind, someone's presence runs through.
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