| | | | When I was at elementary, I delivered a love letter, from a teacher who loves music, to a lady who does also.
From her notebook of copies of song, I read those lines: Song is water in desert, is sun in winter...
They didn't hooked up, instead, another beautiful teacher, who loves performance too, See, whoever is an entertainer can entice a lady easily.
Now I become a messenger again, I drew a picture of a lady's children, a token for love, both adults are single, This recall my childhood, as if everything is at an early stage.
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