I hate my songs, they are just appereance
they are words that were smoothed over by filling the blanks
it might sound arrogant but i do know the truth
that troubled smile of yours.
i continue struggling and then sink, it is just a repetition.
the sweet words and melodies rip up my ears.
i can't reach the other side of the ideals
everytime i just stare at it
i don't have a place to return to because i have been throwing them away
there is no gain in looking at the past
the possesed song of the fairies is also making grow in me transparent wings
a melody that nobody have ever listened to
is making the air tremble and going towards the shining sky
the place where my eyes open is always a warm room
those feeling from me to you are getting broken while riding the wind
the rain that keeps falling, my wet back
the mud's afterimage and a heart that was eternal
they are all now the same grey world
the possesed song of the fairies is also making grow in me transparent wings
a melody that nobody have ever listened to
is making the air tremble and going towards the shining sky
english is not my native language so maybe i have some grammar mistakes