Dreamer, shall we go toward the pulse-pounding side?
We set out toward a story we've yet to see.
I'm not used to spring.
The sound of this heart, over and over
Pricking and ticking, it drove my urgency.
You can't become it either.
It's comforting that our conflicts are alike.
Prickling and ticking, we share the anxiety in half.
It's okay to cry, it's okay to regret
If I throw away what I love, I'll surely be able to go.
There's no need to hurry; it's okay to wait.
The wind keeps blowing, even if you stop.
Let's cast our anxieties toward the south.
Beyond spring, toward the summer skies.
The sound will become even fuller.
The fame we'd hear with a new you.
The stage we'll go to with the new you.
(Whoa-oh-oh-oh)
(Whoa-oh-oh-oh)
Now, Dreamer, shall we go toward the pulse-pounding side?
We strike the sound of the beginning.
We are, shall we go toward the wind-blown side?
A new story we'll find with you.
We set out toward a glory we've yet to see.
[Full Version Continues]
(Whoa-oh-oh-oh)
(Whoa-oh-oh-oh)
(Whoa-oh-oh-oh-oh)
(Whoa-oh-oh-oh)
(Whoa-oh-oh-oh)
(Whoa-oh-oh-oh-oh)
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It's okay to cry, it's okay to shout (whoa-oh-oh-oh)
With a petty pride (whoa-oh-oh-oh)
It's okay not to be ashamed, be proud (whoa-oh-oh-oh)
Losing what you love would be a lifelong regret
Let's weave bonds that leap beyond friendship.
Let's seize the core that goes beyond sympathy.
Surely it will become something lifelong.
With the weapons we found, we'll turn the tide.
The stage we'll tread with the steps we found together.
(Whoa-oh-oh-oh)
(Whoa-oh-oh-oh)
Piece by piece, I sketch my resolve.
Dreamer, shall we go toward the pulse-pounding side?
We strike the sound of the beginning.
We are, shall we go toward the wind-swept side?
The new story we'll find with you.
We set out toward a glory we've yet to see; shall we begin?
Joy and sorrow,
Take all the suffering with you.
Longings and envy, too,
Carry them without hiding.
The opposite of giving up
With a bleeding-tinged strength.
Embrace it, seize it.
Never let it go again.
Dreamer, shall we go toward the pulse-pounding side?
We set out, our story.