People are foolish, aren't they? People are fickle, aren't they?
They don't pray unless they're hurt.
They forget, since some time ago,
that they're devoted to living, accepting god's grace.
One cannot live for someone,
pulling up the love that bloomed in the heart.
People are small, aren't they? � People are hollow, aren't they?
Return one day to the heavens.
In the garden of the heavens, everyone smiles,
loving the people they were separated from.
If I could have one small wish come true,
it would be for stars to illuminate your darkness.
People are small, aren't they? � People are hollow, aren't they?
Return one day to the heavens.
Return, return