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Текст песни:
[Verse 1]
In the early dim, she swept the simple porch clean,
Morning chill clinging to the moss between stones.
Never asked for grace, just the kettle's rising steam,
Her laughter in the yard when she thought she was alone.
[Verse 2]
Lanterns in the dusk, a hush under cedar eaves,
Slender hands folding linens softer than light.
She watched the blue herons, wishing she could believe
That someone far away would come home tonight.
[Chorus]
Windows open, voices low
Time moves gentle, rivers slow
[Verse 3]
Tea bowls on the rail, fading warmth through the mist,
She placed each cup in a line, steady, precise.
A friend once promised a song, no need for a tryst—
Just a memory carried on the echo of rice.
[Chorus]
Windows open, voices low
Time moves gentle, rivers slow
[Bridge]
(背景にささやく)
やさしい風が帰り道を照らす
あなたの影を思い出すだけで
(Softly, softly)
[Verse 4]
Beneath distant peaks, with a weathered bell’s ring,
She listens for stories told in the way leaves fall.
Not waiting or wishing for what next season brings—
She hums with the crickets as darkness starts to call.
[Chorus]
Windows open, voices low
Time moves gentle, rivers slow
[Outro]
(She hums quietly, with faint, angelic echoes)
[Verse 1]
In the early dim, she swept the simple porch clean,
Morning chill clinging to the moss between stones.
Never asked for grace, just the kettle's rising steam,
Her laughter in the yard when she thought she was alone.
[Verse 2]
Lanterns in the dusk, a hush under cedar eaves,
Slender hands folding linens softer than light.
She watched the blue herons, wishing she could believe
That someone far away would come home tonight.
[Chorus]
Windows open, voices low
Time moves gentle, rivers slow
[Verse 3]
Tea bowls on the rail, fading warmth through the mist,
She placed each cup in a line, steady, precise.
A friend once promised a song, no need for a tryst—
Just a memory carried on the echo of rice.
[Chorus]
Windows open, voices low
Time moves gentle, rivers slow
[Bridge]
(背景にささやく)
やさしい風が帰り道を照らす
あなたの影を思い出すだけで
(Softly, softly)
[Verse 4]
Beneath distant peaks, with a weathered bell’s ring,
She listens for stories told in the way leaves fall.
Not waiting or wishing for what next season brings—
She hums with the crickets as darkness starts to call.
[Chorus]
Windows open, voices low
Time moves gentle, rivers slow
[Outro]
(She hums quietly, with faint, angelic echoes)
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