Question you!

She is as quiet as this night, she is as far as moon.

Standing with no hope I wait for a Queen tide and wash me away down to her feet.

Left on this forgotten land, I eat dust to find her trace.

Sky is the only common now, hold hands to heat now.

Years of wait and love, wets off my paper-ship, with no promise I sail to death.

Will you allow me, Will you let me!

Should I follow you, Will you let me!