Not much of dresses to try and trades to buy,
not much of your social scene, the visible queen,
my days and nights on a painted masterpiece
it's not like yours, my well dolled-up fair
i'll have my time at my hands
the twilight will sketch the skies
as the sunset drinks the vermillions and tangerines
and the stars will be drawn there
reflecting the little boy's brightest dreams
and the little girl's wish will never even wither
not one can afford this art
oh what would you give just to purchase our story?
