Lit up by the half-dead street lights
+
The shadows of people flicker on and off
+
With the smell of rubber and moisture in the air
+
There's too much talk to call this silence
+
Therefore, my point of view can't stay fixed
+
Slips over the stars and switches on to the northeast
+
Moths gather, but it's futile anyway
+
They'll burn down in their dreams, and there'll be nothing left
+
A ticket with no destination
+
An evening scenery at the end this life
+
Take me fast, to the wasteland
+
At the other side of the earth
+
Dog bones in the garden at summer,
+
Dates marked on piles of corpses
+
I'll step on all that to head for tomorrow,
+
With the notes of bronchitis
+
Sing until you spit up blood
+
The cold winds from the northern mountains
+
And even the flowers blooming there
+
Is allowed to blaspheme
+
There's a departing whistle in my body
+
Blood is my escape route
+
Whenever I set out on a journey and come closer
+
Why does it drift farther away?
+
I scream with increased irritation
+
Today's scenery is fractured
+
A piece of it pierces the ground
+
February is an innocent shipwreck
+
Speed and friction, burning my organs.
+
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Lit up by the half-dead street lights
+
The shadows of people flicker on and off
+
With the smell of rubber and moisture in the air
+
There's too much talk to call this silence
+
Therefore, my point of view can't stay fixed
+
Slips over the stars and switches on to the northeast
+
Moths gather, but it's futile anyway
+
They'll burn down in their dreams, and there'll be nothing left
+
A ticket with no destination
+
An evening scenery at the end this life
+
Take me fast, to the wasteland
+
At the other side of the earth
+
Dog bones in the garden at summer,
+
Dates marked on piles of corpses
+
I'll step on all that to head for tomorrow,
+
With the notes of bronchitis
+
Sing until you spit up blood
+
The cold winds from the northern mountains
+
And even the flowers blooming there
+
Is allowed to blaspheme
+
I clicked my tongue at this town
+
-No, it's the town that clicked its tongue
+
There's a system of myths of the children in the sandbox,
+
And a god dwells in each grain of the sand
+
I get tangled, in this inseparable sociality
+
I cross over carelessly and spit at them
+
I close myself up and doubt the afterlife
+
I'll burn down in an unsightly way, and there'll be nothing left
+
On the division point of beasts and men
+
Silver flies swarm around life
+
Sperms make a pilgrimage to sacred grounds
+
It's too early to die in the snowfall
+
A love hotel along the highway
+
With loss of words in dawn
+
The end of world is stammering
+
I choke as I swallow it down
+
The curtain drips with dew
+
On the road is a winter galaxy
+
Straddling on the back of a truck, the years passed by
+
Flipped over at an intersection, and shed blood
+
As I watched it out the window, I heard the crackling sound of life burning
+
Speed and friction, sending off sparks
+
Speed and friction, burning my organs
+
There's a departing whistle in my body
+
Blood is my escape route
+
Whenever I set out on a journey and come closer
+
Why does it drift farther away?
+
I scream with increased irritation
+
Today's scenery is fractured
+
A piece of it pierces the ground
+
February is an innocent shipwreck
+
Speed and friction, burning my organs.
+