Sanoja: Noise Ratchet. Desired.

A summerset to my eyes, with memories of a child
I had no responsibilities,
to help or to have more than I could hold onto
It's a slow song to me, desired
I run through the tree, my desire
As I wonder now all's grown cold,
but in rememberance there's a story told
Of a softer song for a softer soul,

and the innocent heart to hold