When I was small, I use to wish upon a star.

I wished for the same things;

Health, fortune, and a good heart.

When I was young, I use to wonder why.

Why the star never worked.

And it seemed life was passing me by.

And then the moon rose in the sky,

Covering me with endless black.

And I hated the darkness.

I hated the night.

Because within such a place-

There was nowhere you could hide.

Demons find all, who try to not fit in.

So I cried to the Moon,

When I was young,

Asking please, please, please.

Return, my star- the sun-

Back to me.