From where does the morning come? The quiet sky, the pinky promise I pretended not to see, that fingertip?
                                             If it's the moon that was laughed at, it's going away in the direction of yesterday.
                                             
                                             A liar, a coward - collect all that and I'm the result; if I was blooming, it must have been within a dream.
                                             
                                             I hid it in the moonlight, but you know, the truth is that I was crying. My tears won't flow anymore - has the well run dry?
                                             If everything could be forgiven, maybe they'd flow again, but there are so many things I want to protect.
                                            
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                                             How long have you been able to hear my voice? Was it really shaking that much? That's so weird.
                                             All I was doing was singing, "I am here," in the direction of tomorrow.
                                             
                                             Memories, a disordered room - if I don't even have a place to stand, I'll leave everything behind, bringing just my body.
                                             
                                             I wrenched open the dark door and set out on an ending journey.
                                             Even if I get lost on a detour, goodbye, this place is fine.
                                             If I acknowledge everything, I might be able to find it, but there are so many things I can't protect.
                                             
                                             Empty as I had become, even though it was so precious to me,
                                             It all crumbles down with a single touch of a fingertip.
                                             
                                             Alternatively, I'd obtain it and clutch it so hard it would break,
                                             Or I'd plug my ears with a love song, then get scared and let go - and it repeats.
                                             
                                             I hid it in the moonlight, but you know, the truth is that I was blooming. Please don't tread on it at the corner and let it wither away.
                                             To let go of everything and be able to protect the one thing that remains - thus I pray to the dawn.