The more I seek love, I haven't fallen at all.
I'm not in the mood to talk about the old days.
If we sleep with our skin pressed together,
We can get through the night,
Rather than living a long life,
I want to die.
There's nothing precious at all,
I've long since discarded any wish.
If I decorate the past with tears,
It turns into sweet lies.
Rather than that way of living,
I want to die.
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The pain lingering on my anguished fingertips.
You could call it truth, I suppose.
The more I seek love, I haven't fallen.
I'm not in the mood to talk about the old days.
If we sleep with our skin to skin,
The night can be endured,
Rather than living a long life,
I want to die.
If I decorate the past with tears,
It turns into sweet lies.
Rather than that way of life,
I want to die.
I want to die.
I want to die.
I want to die.