Scattering like sand, simply vanishing in the wind
Having gone too far, -Another- who nobody can see
Without even wishing upon the midday night
A shadow that flows towards its destination
To understand... it's like running
In the desert.
The middle of the night... like searching for the dusk
Floating within the light and vanishing
Unable to even meet
"What percent of your thoughts do you know?"
In the space between emotion and revolving information,
A fleeting voice... pick it up
[Full Version Continues:]
Because I told a lie, because I spoke the truth
The heart that collects the unchanging gazes, -Terminal-
Lined up along the unused window frames
As if longing to be someone's room
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In the middle of a crowd, not even able to do so much
As stop
No matter how many times new hopes are lost
Hold onto utopian ideals that keep living in my heart
Repeating the foolish acts, laugh and start running
"Don't throw away even a single percent of your true feelings."
In the space between time, oblivion and the present,
That cowering heart... make it hoarse.
What's the meaning of existence?
Does existence even have a meaning?
Unafraid of anything aside from being misunderstood,
Raise your tilted gaze towards the horizon.
The middle of the night... you can see in the darkness, can't you.
"What percent of your thoughts do you know?"
Feelings aren't someone's voice, are they?
That violent throbbing... open your ears to it