Even if the shape formed by linking points into a line isn't something I cherish
I carry it and go on living; even with shallow breaths, I keep breathing
Seen from above, this house surely looks smaller than you'd imagine
But if I forget this despair, even the mirror would doubt
I walk through the city of dolls, where winds that no one knows blow
On a stage full of patches, let's fix our gaze
If I name even that diluted blood after you,
I will call you, take your hand, and dance with you
And when morning comes, before we return to the clean routine
Hurt my body
[Full Version Continues]
Healthy days fade away, along with the scent of tea
The light wrapped in thick fog swells and becomes terrifying
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I walk through the city of dolls, weaving a night without a storyteller
The addressee on a letter in a rusted mailbox; even if it's not opened, I can tell-surely so
The world seen with those eyes should be bright no matter what night
Let my body stay cold, even as it grows colder
Even as the dying embers leap and land on the top of my foot
Love that my form will not change anymore
If I name even that diluted blood after you,
I will call you, take your hand, and dance with you
If, for example, you can't go anywhere anymore,
I will call you, take your hand, and put you to sleep
And thus morning comes, before we return to the clean routine
Wound my body, and show me you can change my form