Even though it should be turning, I feel like it's stopped.
Worrying alone, pretending I understand.
The ideal, fading at the end of the flicker.
I reflected it in my eyes and let it run.
A stone trapped in the lonely rondo (Rondo).
If that's the case, let's break free and make our wishes come true, now.
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It's nobody but yourself who decides.
Right or wrong, they'll turn into your own individuality.
If you believe that our hopes will converge someday and come true.
The white score starts to move, the one and only Ring-out melody in this world.