Here we go, action-pushed to the limit, going the wrong way?
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Damn it, even if it's fiction. Bad show.
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Even with vigor like weeds,
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These hands, these feet-one alone can't reach the goal.
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Stumbling reveals my immaturity.
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I long to be the me for someone.
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We're in this together; that makes it easy.
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...Not necessarily to that extent, but fear fades away-yeah.
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Even a heart that seems about to stall midway toward the ideal, if you lift it, you restart.
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Come again and again-the final episode.
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I've discarded what I need to discard, on the path I've woven.
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The pain I've endured and the tears entrusted to me.
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I've got it all here, properly.
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To the point that I even laugh at myself.
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Power comes out, even though nothing is left.
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I'll move forward with these feet.
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Here we go, action-does that side look tougher?
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No, this side also seems tough in its own ways.
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Ah, let's not let predictions bring us down anymore.
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Racing ahead, as straight as an arrow-almost too much.
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Yes, I'll say it again and again: this kind of doubt, relief and worry repeat.
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"One", "one" is my fragment-let's go find where it is.
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The lines, the lyrics I've cherished and drawn with care.
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...The road ahead is long, that's why it's enjoyable-exactly.
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Then here we go, action-pushed to the limit, going the wrong way.
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Even so, it's a completely ordinary reaction.
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The tracks we've made that will never disappear- all of it, the heart's radiance.
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By just starting to move
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At a distance proportional to what I want to achieve.
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No matter how much I row, I can't reach it.
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I feel a little dazzled.
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But I can keep moving forward like this.
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After all, there's nothing to worry about.
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Because I can hear that voice.
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The pain I've endured and the tears entrusted to me.
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I've got it all here, properly.
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To the point I even laugh at myself.
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Power comes out, even though nothing is left.
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With these feet, I will move forward.
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