よるべ：The Calling

Lu-va-lira… Somaree…

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Stars breathe slowly
We are smaller than their silence

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Your crown is made of sand
Melting under quiet waves

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Lu-va-lira, Somaree
Called, not chosen…
Called, not chosen…

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See with your own eyes
Not the borrowed light

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No one to blame
If you dance inside their strings

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Lu-va-lira… Somaree…

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Your kingdom is paper
Folded by trembling hands

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Whisper of roots
The earth remembers us

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Glass wings scatter
They cut the night in silence

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Lu-va-lira… Somaree…

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Lu-va-lira…