Kinmokusei (Osmanthus)

At this point, checking if your answers are correct Such things don’t matter anymore The waves of sorrow break and return

Sweeping away fallen cigarette butts Memories creep on the ground So I gather them all

A tasteless cookie, coin laundry, A stupid hamburger An exhaust pipe covered in graffiti My chest hurts, so goodbye Your hand gripping the strap I’ve forgotten its warmth

Without leaving me to the dusk, the record rewinds back to that day The sky shook, and so did our happy life The smell of the osmanthus and I stayed the same, and once more, Goodbye.

Something translucent opens up at the edge of the cramped windowsill Someone far away is shining down on me “What should we do about those empty holes,” or something The railroad crossing was crying again today That’s what I felt

I lit my cigarette with the lighter I brought home that day The smoke wouldn’t show what was in front of me The noise coming from the fan  Disappeared The beer cans lying around in the room The underwear I hung resembled me when I hung my head

A room all cluttered and messed up, A plush toy looking like a corpse Tonight, we go on a parade

As my bangs sway with the weak air conditioning They remind me over and over of what happened that summer Let’s head towards the sleeping town Let’s head towards the sleeping town now Unable to bear the brightness of the street lights tonight, I shut my eyes closed

Crushed and scattered conflicts; such ideologies I’ve seen them on TV They always say that justice will always prevail But what is justice anyway?

Unknown things will remain unknown Since I’m still a child, I’m not an adult I did nothing but stare at the ceiling again today, an unchanging scenery Let’s head towards the sleeping town Let’s head towards the sleeping town now The building on the opposite end is also diving into the bed tonight

Let’s head towards the sleeping town Let’s head towards the sleeping town The last train’s coming soon