I'm probably the one who has nothing at all.
You probably have nothing at all, either.
We, nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing.
We probably haven't been able to grasp it.
The night we struggled to find a small light, we stayed by each other.
This song that sings of and records those days.
If only one dream could come true
What would I say I want?
If I could become someone, even just one person,
Who would I want to become?
I kept wanting things that wouldn't reach me anytime soon, and talking about them.
For some reason I was all fired up.
The blue air, the path of a gentle breeze.
The traces of words, the beating of our hearts.
It felt endlessly beautiful.
An imperfectly planned ideal.
Whenever I began to climb the stairs, I jumped down.
Forcibly back to the starting point.
Breaths moved in, exhaled.
The things I believed in, as if they believed in me.
Even when I realized they weren't tangible.
I laughed as if at the end of innocence.
I had become skilled at averting my gaze.
I was alive.
I'm probably the one who has nothing at all.
You probably have nothing at all, either.
We, nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing.
We probably haven't been able to grasp it.
The night we struggled to find a small light, we stayed by each other.
Even those days felt precious.
That day we decided not to cry.
We decided we couldn't cry.
And yet, why, why, why, why, why
Were we crying?
The stars we saw shining so brightly that day are now
I wonder if somewhere someone is still lighting them up.
Are they still there?
Life isn't just a one-time thing.
If it's life, how should I live it?
But even the now, which is only once,
I wonder whether I'm truly living it.
No matter how many times I question it, tomorrow arrives and I forget.
I kept focusing only on what was in front of me.
White feelings, the light too dazzling.
Beyond the dream lies the still unseen fourth note.
I somehow sense a premonition.
Pretending not to see, I hid my feelings.
To an embarrassing extent.
Going about without care for appearances.
I believed this was right.
I can't go back, and I don't want to.
I decided there was nothing there.
That top star is a hollow fake.
I had known it for a long time, but I kept moving forward.
I was trembling.
Even if I pray
Even if I pray
It won't reach
I know.
How long is it okay for me to stay here?
And where should I go from here?
Why does everyone, everyone, everyone, everyone
How can they give up?
Even if I howl like this
The truth is stranger than fiction.
I could even find such irony lovely.
I'm probably the one who has nothing at all.
You probably have nothing at all, either.
We, nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing.
We probably haven't been able to grasp it.
The night we struggled to find a small light, we stayed by each other.
Even those days felt beautiful.
That day we decided not to cry.
We decided we couldn't cry.
And yet, why, why, why, why, why
Were we crying?
The stars we saw shining so brightly that day are now
I wonder if somewhere someone is still lighting them.
Are they still there?