New Song

It rains, it rains
In this Sunday morning
On the way home from church, we keep on walking
Holding your slender and long fingers

On the way to Crossing
Pin a rose to your dark and long hair
For the whole life, I will take a good care
Yes, a good care of you, with my warm heart

It is cloudy, thousand floating clouds
The clouds touch your floating hair
Picking up the rose, probably you were in doubt
Letting it idle in your lovely palms

To the park, we are on our way
Why is it so long this Sunday?
Take care of you, I will for whole life
Though I am feverishly mad with you now

On the way to your boarding house
You pick up the forgotten rose and pressing to your lips
Rocking you to sleep
I will for whole life, till hairs turn gray