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Nee isso tooku shiranai machi ni inkyoshite chinmokushimasen koto?
Konna hibi ni wa akita no sa nee doozo saratte ite
Nigenobite sumitsutoo ni miren
Sunamitai na ishiki to iu jigen de
Nigenobita atsusa yo izukoe
Yure ga shooshi
Sono mama taida ni yudaneta saigo no aosa
Moo kaeranai to shitta ondo mo koerarenu yoru no koofuiro
Kookai ni yodonde ita kesshin no amasa
Too ni ushinatta genpeki utsu wa
Hiite kurenu kookai to nami no iro
Machiwabite kooruka wa CONCRETE
Sunamitai na ishiki to iu kikan de
Machiwabite samusa yo izukoe
Yure ni dooshi
Sono mama aishoo ni moshita shuusei PEN no shiro sa
Genjoo wo hisshide na haida suhada ni kyoofuiro
Hookan ni tesshite ita kangai no awasa
Too ni ushinatta raiu aogu wa naite kurunu zannin na kumo no iro
Konna hibi ni wa akita no sa nee doozo saratte ite
Sunamitai na ishiki to iu jigen de
Nigenobita atsusa yo izukoe
Yure ga shooshi
Moo kaeranai to shitta ondo mo koerarenu yoru no koofuiro
Kookai ni yodonde ita kesshin no amasa
Too ni ushinatta genpeki utsu wa
Hiite kurenu kookai to nami no iro
Sunamitai na ishiki to iu kikan de
Machiwabite samusa yo izukoe
Yure ni dooshi
Genjoo wo hisshide na haida suhada ni kyoofuiro
Hookan ni tesshite ita kangai no awasa
Too ni ushinatta raiu aogu wa naite kurunu zannin na kumo no iro
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A Translation of this nice song:
“Say, wouldn’t you rather retire to a faraway nameless town and live quietly? I’m so tired of this life. Come and take me away”
I get away, but I miss the taste of the sweet juicy peach in a dimension called consciousness, so like sand. Where is the heat that got away? I’m starting to shiver with doubt.
Just as I was, I lazily entrusted my last blue. The temperature which knows it can never go back, and the color of fear of a night never-ending. Stagnated on the borderline, the naïveté of my determination The waves hitting the seaside cliffs I’ve already forgotten won’t draw away the regret nor the color of the waves.
Left waiting, the freezing scent is concrete, in an organ called consciousness, so like sand Where is the cold that was left waiting? Motivated by the shivering and doubts.
Just as I am, the whiteness of the white-out pen imitates my affection. The color of fear on my naked flesh every time I rush to patch things up for the moment, and then peel it away The faintness in the emotion of just watching from the sidelines Looking up at the thunderstorm I’ve already forgotten, there was the color of a cloud which wouldn’t shed tears for me.