My auntie is Water, and she lives in my room now. She will be sleeping on my floor, and seeing my cow. She has a lot of eyelashes, they are quite stunning. Her face is intelligent and fully smart, but she is just a child. Well she's been with the tidal waves, you see. She's been washed away, you can clearly see. The sea washed away the adulthood she never really became to be. Dear auntie, dear auntie.

Sometimes she eats away the coconut ice-cream and tell me why she never got married. Sometimes I look at her doubtfully, wondering if there's something she buried. Strange auntie, wouldn't you tell me why your mind is washed away. You are sleeping on my floor now, you are opening my doors now. Tell me, what is scaring you today. I will sail the boat and bring you to a beautiful bay really, and you won't be so scared today.

They won't imprison you, you see. Dear auntie, my dear auntie. I don't know why you never come out on Sunday mornings anymore, it might as well be a wound's that's sore, or more. But I can bring you coconut ice-cream and you can talk about your unmarried future. And they won't imprison you anymore, there will be no more doors.