笑みを浮かべ涙流し 手首にナイフを
信じた声 嘘が笑う 病的被害者
管を伝う 赤い液を 見つめて泣いている
命さえも 切り落とせず 病的被害者
白い部屋を紅く染めて傷よ深く深く深くなれ
人の群れ 縛られている 孤独感じ 何もできずに
明日はもう 来ないのだろう 16歳の夜
夜が恐い 夜が寒い 夜の群れ 夜い溺れていく
明日はもう 来ないのだろう 16歳の春
被害者の舌はありません
光はない閉ざされてる 12歳のある朝
ベジタリアン ぎみの僕に レアぎみの子猫
父よ母よ紅く染めて傷よ深く深く深くなれ
人の群れ 縛られている 孤独感じ 何もできずに
明日はもう 来ないのだろう 16歳の夜
夜が恐い 夜が寒い 夜の群れ 夜い溺れていく
明日はもう 来ないのだろう 16歳の春
静かにして 瞳を閉じて 母と父の 顔を浮かべて
何度笑い 何度泣いても 戻らない
涙枯れた寒い夜はお別れです 手首を切って
明日はもう 来ないのだろう 16歳の春
|
Emi o ukabe namida nagashi Tekubi ni naifu o
Shinjita koe Uso ga warau Byōteki higaisha
Kuda o tsutau Akai eki o Mitsumete naiteiru
Inochi sae mo Kiriotosezu Byōteki higaisha
Shiroi heya o akaku somete kizu yo fukaku fukaku fukaku nare
Hito no mure ni Shibarareteiru Kodoku kanji Nanimo dekizu ni
Ashita wa mō Konai no darō Jūroku no yoru
Yoru ga kowai Yoru ga samui Yoru no mure Yoi oborete iku
Ashita wa mō Konai no darō Jūroku no haru
Higaisha no shita wa arimasen
Hikari wa nai tozasareteru Jūni no aru asa
Bejitarian Gimi no boku ni Rea gimi no koneko
Chichi yo haha yo akaku somete kizu yo fukaku fukaku fukaku nare
Hito no mure ni Shibarareteiru Kodoku kanji Nanimo dekizu ni
Ashita wa mō Konai no darō Jūroku no yoru
Yoru ga kowai Yoru ga samui Yoru no mure Yoi oborete iku
Ashita wa mō Konai no darō Jūroku no haru
Shizuka ni shite Hitomi o tojite Chichi to haha no Kao o ukabete
Nando warai Nando naite mo Modoranai
Namida kareta samui yoru wa owakare desu Tekubi o kitte
Ashita wa mō Konai no darō Jūroku no haru
|
smiling, shedding tears the knife at my wrist
the voice I believed in laughing with lies a morbid victim
staring at the red fluid that flows through the tube and crying
I cannot even sever my own life a morbid victim
the white room dyed scarlet, the wound becoming deeper, deeper, deeper
bound to these crowds of people there's nothing I can do with this sense of loneliness
perhaps tomorrow won't even come a night of my sixteenth year
the night is frightening the night is cold so many nights I'm drowning in night
perhaps tomorrow won't even come the spring of my sixteenth year
the victim has no tongue
locked up without light on a morning of my twelth year
I, somewhat vegetarian the kitten, kind of rare
mother, father, dyed scarlet, the wound becoming deeper, deeper, deeper
bound to these crowds of people there's nothing I can do with this sense of loneliness
perhaps tomorrow won't even come a night of my sixteenth year
the night is frightening the night is cold so many nights I'm drowning in night
perhaps tomorrow won't even come the spring of my sixteenth year
doing it quietly my eyes closed mother and father's expressions
no matter how much they laugh or how much they cry I will not return
my tears dried up this cold night is my farewell slashing my wrists
perhaps tomorrow won't even come the spring of my sixteenth year
|