In the black darkness, a youkai dances
In the depths of darkness, the youkai's dance
On the veranda, I watch; it's a youkai
It vanishes and reappears, the youkai's stance
The dead are CRAZY, a bottomless feeling
Transformed at the ox hour; from there there is no end
A youkai's wardrobe that swallows children
A youkai lurking in the attic
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An old woman's superstition, a manji on her palm
A youkai neighbor; there is no end to it
At the shrine, a giant-an embodiment of a scarab
Circle of corpses, endless with no end
Nobody cares at all
Nothing is real