I heard she cried, 
that one April rain, 
on her mediocre heart, 
drenched down with purple tears. 

Yes, she cried, 
in the dead of night, 
to her young stubborn heart, 
for an affair that fell apart. 

I watched her and stared, 
never noticed I also cried. 
Pity, I wished for her to hold, 
but I can't stand in the cold. 

And so then, sometimes we also cry, 
embraces the comforts of weep. 
Forever, prisoners of the heart, 
forever, prisoners of love.