In the middle of the intersection, blending in with the rushing crowd.
It feels like I'm the only one adrift, with nowhere to go.
The popular songs of the moment never sing about me.
Hey, don't smile at me from within your vision.
Again today, I swallowed emotions that wouldn't become a voice.
Filling up the drafts.
Ah, and that's how I get through thousands of nights.
For me, that was all there was-just that.
Searching for an exit, only words spilled out.
If they reach your heart and fill the gaps a little.
Even someone like me, I'm here, shouting.
The Song of the Wandering Star.
For some reason, the questions are always about the future.
The me in front of me, my present, is neglected.
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Ignore this heart that can't fit into the glamour.
Please don't push for a bright tomorrow.
In the night sky, flickering, unreliable stardust.
Hesitant, I drift away.
Ah, that wandering thing is me.
To be me-that's all I can do.
I can't imitate anyone well.
Why do I treat such painful days as boring and sweep them away?
Even though I stumble, I'm still struggling.
The Song of the Wandering Star.
For me, that was all there was-just that.
Tears streaming, at last the words were born.
Somewhere, with a chest that aches and stings, just like mine.
To you who trembles, I'm there too; I shout.
The Song of the Wandering Star.