Just like the rain on the building's window and our wandering melancholy
The irony that was blotting out the attitude as if it knew
Love and empathy that crossed paths when we didn't intend them to
melodies that do not intersect disappeared in the city
Unfulfilled mutual understanding, sympathy that I'm still searching for
This feeling that's spilling out like sand
Between imagination and delusion
I'm trying to find the song that fills my missing heart.
The color of the sky for the first time, my trembling hands
I held my trembling hands up to the sky as it began to rain and prayed
The day when the light that will eventually fall will turn into a bouquet of flowers
Missing heart, adults who close their hearts and weave words
I stretch out this frightened hand and continue to search for a bridge
The vague map of the world is colorfully painted over.
The light in the dark room, this is exactly the light I've been looking for.
The sands of time, flowing slowly and soundlessly
I can hear the song that connects lonely souls
I'm counting on you to convey my heart to you
Let me hear the song of love that fills the skimmer
The wet trace on my fingertips, without anyone noticing
Like a fever, like a dream, it floats in and out
It's not like an imitation
We are the origin!
Circulating around the world
Everybody's looking for it, aren't they?
Souls have wandered and learned to see a new light
Everyone is a piece of someone else
We're all looking for something missing.
I just want to talk about the future a little bit more.
We've already stepped out into the light of day
Oh Yeah!
Yeah, it's like a miracle
What do you want more than anything?
Just right now We're falling apart
But we're still singing together
A song that connects you and me forever
The color of the sky for the first time I held up my trembling hand
I held up my trembling hand to the rainy sky of the beginning and prayed
Yes, because eternity and the moment are the same thing
(I found the blue sky, so I spread my wings without fear)
Like magic, like heat, I'll always dream
(In the orange evening clouds, look, I spread my little umbrella)
The day when the light that eventually falls turns into a bouquet of flowers
Time is constantly spinning