https://youtu.be/KhV4ebm_8gI

Music & Lyrics by chingching

I met a boy at age of eight,
somewhere uncertain at downstate.
He turned to page with a broken bookplate,
something changeable near a gate.

Someday I shall pass through the gate.
The roads in front shall become straight.
Someday I'll travel through upstate.
To share a chocolate cake in a silver plate.

It seems that it's never too late.
Sometimes the truths are not so great.
Life is too short to let us wait.
Should we have to believe in fate?

It seems that it's never too late.
It seems that it's never too late.