No Past Land

If my hands weren't there, like I saw in the stream Of the drawings been made on a full colour screen If they weren't to be found Then what else could I be? If your hands weren't there, like I saw in my dreams And the poets we made, had all gone, disappeared Then what else Then what else could I be? If your hands and my hands strolled together around If they were to make friends we'd be possibly up To escape from this world From this no past land If I looked in the windows while walking pass through If I stared at the willows with my seven black truths If my eyes were to see what belongs to your mind If you'd like, keep perceiving what lies on my back And your eyes will shine through the glass of my wine And the willows, the windows, the pillows, and your mouth If your hands and my hands strolled together around If they were to make friends we'd be possibly up To escape from this world From this no past land