A keresés eredménye oldal 2

amazarashi - Us Against the World ぼくら対せかい

Versions: #3
amazarashi - Us Against the World
 
A young couple and their kids, playing with fireworks in a mall parking lot.
 
The dazzling lights of a baseball atadium and a Don Quixote, like meteorites from another solar system.
 
Wages shit, pissed, and drunken way - a suburban town obsessed with anything that glitters.
 
My colleagues died out on the highway. That's one every year these last ten years.
 
We squished bugs with a value system of ''It's all over once you look for a meaning in life''.
 
As far as we're concerned, ''philosophy'' is the poetry scrawled on pub bathroom stalls.
 
Only when we've drunk too much does ''I can put up with this'' cross our minds, but the next day, drowned in sweat and invoices, the thought vanishes in the blink of an eye.
 
Sunlight shines on you through the trees, as you work at the railway switchyard, shining on the ''you'' that once changed the world.
 
At point, it was just me and you, in a tranquil place we called our world.
 
With our bodies intertwined, we nursed our youth until the bitter end.
 
Outside the school building, a sunset and mushroom clouds.
 
Blazer ribbons and the furthest ends of isolation.
 
In shirts stained with oil, we loaded up our fantasies in the back of a truck.
 
The past, the future - us against the world.
 
The past, the future - us against the world.
 
You know, I get the feeling that we've left something behind, but I've already forgotten what it was.
 
Maybe we're actually the ones who have been left behind.
 
Always impatient, as though she were on some kind of errand, the name of the girl who hurried past us was surely ''time''.
 
I can't even see her back in the horizon anymore. I can't even remember her smile.
 
Our wounds have left us. The sun has set on our scars.
 
Though our old wounds ache, they've been drowned out by the sounds of alarm clocks.
 
At one point, there was an endless wilderness before us.
 
It took courage whether we kept going or not.
 
To all my fallen friends: I will never leave you behind.
 
Our sensitivity drove us to stage an armed uprising.
 
From our disadvantageous position, we seized victory.
 
That former glory is all wrapped up, but it's missing an address.
 
The past, the future - us against the world.
 
The past, the future - us against the world.
 
We believed that the world would change. We believed we'd be the ones to change it.
 
Even though we've gone our separate ways, I've got no doubt that those feelings haven't changed.
 
Treachery, deceit, baseless accusations, brown-nosing, excuses, verbal promises, manga cafes, crowded trains, transparent flattery, apologies, embarassment and disparagement, friends in whom we can confide our true feelings, former brothers-in-arms, funny stories that never once made us smile, music, sons and daughters, political power, right and left, our past, present, and stories of our future - a moment of relief on the weekend, caressed by a mild breeze in the park.
 
In our joined hands, there is enough warmth to make up for time gone by.
 
The sequel of the world we saved that day, the after of the world we knocked down that day, even though we suffer, we've lived through it so earnestly.
 
The past, the future - us against the world.
 
The past, the future - us against the world.
 
The past, the future - us against the world.
 
The past, the future - us against the world.
 

amazarashi - Digging Holes 穴を掘っている

Versions: #3
amazarashi - Digging Holes 穴を掘っている
 
I'm digging holes - where did my life go wrong?
 
I'm digging holes - jamming my spade into self-abandonment.
 
Deep in the woods, the wind is howling, the night-hawks are cawing, watched from above by the eye of the full moon at ane o'clock at night.
 
I'm digging holes - that bastard finally dropped the ball.
 
I'm digging holes - this one's a pitfall for all the rejects.
 
Even if I wipe away my sweat, I can't go as far as to wipe away my regrets.
 
My bad luck alone clings to my chest like a medal.
 
In the open maw of the darkness, illusions from my youth dimly flicker, of hoe my old man would always tell me, ''Even bad guys get to go to heaven''.
 
Then I guess that makes God a bad guy too. Even as a kid I could figure that out.
 
Even if I cried, and pleaded, and prayed, being born in a world like this is proof enough.
 
But maybe that's just the way life is: If you're going to give up, the earlier the better.
 
And I gave up on myself. The moment I was born, I just gave up.
 
I'm digging holes - for the guys I used to call friends.
 
I'm digging holes - for the friends that no longer walk among us.
 
In the light of my lantern, my shadow almost looks like a demon.
 
These sorts of last moments are nothing special in this city's streets.
 
If I could have just somehow gotten over this hump, I should have been able to get through the rest of life pretty smoothly.
 
It's like my old man used to say: ''Hope always brings despair along for the ride''
 
Then I guess God's a bad guy too. Just let us have our hope and nothing else!
 
Even if we cry, and plead, and pray, he always lets us fall in the end.
 
But maybe that's just the way life is: If you're going to give up, the earlier the better.
 
And I gave up on myself. The moment I was born, I just gave up.
 
I'm digging holes - with a gun pointed at my back.
 
I'm digging holes - I'm digging the hole that I myself will lay in.
 
I can only laugh at how worthless my whole life ended up being.
 
But it pisses me off. Why does it always have to be me?
 
With enough momentum to tear this life to shreds, I'm digging holes. I'm digging holes.
 
I'm digging holes. I'm digging holes.
 
In the end, I'll be a bad guy too. I decided that way back when I was a kid.
 
Even if we cried, and pleaded, and prayed, we can't choose the place we were born.
 
But maybe that's just the way life is: If you're going to give up, the earlier the better.
 
'Cause if you don't do that, you'll end up looking like a fool.
 
And at that point, you'll become a person who doens't know when to quit.
 
You'll end up a person who doesn't know when to quit.
 

amazarashi - Rita リタ

Versions: #3
amazarashi - Rita リタ
 
If you're gonna leave, that's fine, 'cause I'll just return all the things you gave me.
 
The wristwatch, the CDs, the train fare: everything. Except for you kindness, that is.
 
Walking alone at night along the train tracks, but there are two shadowns in the lamplight.
 
It's your ghost. And I'm glad that you're really here with me.
 
But the lamps cut out, and I'm left alone.
 
I thought things wouldn't change, but there was no way that could be true.
 
But you made me believe that.
 
You're just like a con-artist or a magician, aren't you, Rita?
 
I don't cry over people who haven't left. I don't cry over things that aren't broken.
 
''I'm fine on my own.'' I can say that, if I lie. Since it's just words, I can say it.
 
In my apartment, there's nothing but a silent refrigerator and laughter from the TV.
 
It'd be nice if I could see feelings with my own eyes.
 
Actually no, I don't want that. They're too harsh.
 
You want to live for other people, and I want to live for myself.
 
And when two gears don't line up, they turn with a grating noise.
 
It was like that - our laughter.
 
Choosing one thing means getting rid of something else.
 
That's fine.
 
I'll just go quietly into the trash bin and see you off, right Rita?
 
You don't cry for yourself. Even when it hurts, you don't cry.
 
But then why you cry? Why did you cry before I did?
 
Only paying attention to myself, absolutely never paying attention to others - when I don't choose my words carefully, it's inevitable that I'll hurt someone.
 
Only paying attention to the past, absolutely never paying attention to the present - when I look backwards as I walk, it's inevitable that I'll trip over.
 
I don't cry over people who are atill here. And since I plan on understanding that, I'm not going to live for myself anymore. I want to try to smile for someone else.
 
The same way you do.
 
I don't cry over the past I've forgotten.
 
I don't cry over time that hasn't passed.
 
I laughed with you. The seasons ended. And time went on. That's all.
 

amazarashi - Haruki on the Road ハルキオンザロード

Versions: #2
Our parting was decided from the start.
 
I almost want to carve those few years we spent onto a tombstone.
 
The both of us, huddled together in a pick-up trailer, the sounds of insects seeping into our nights sweats, like a vacuum-sealed freeze-frame of summer.
 
But since Haruki was really bad at living life, just like a children's game of catch, it all went in an absolutely clumsy trajectory.
 
Yeah, yeah. And her body whice shen tossed aside came crashing down on a certain summer's night.
 
She lived life with a face that always said, ''This is home''.
 
A trackless path. An unworn path.
 
She didn't pursue any course, but she sketched one out instead.
 
But the world is still too big to confirmed to an empty notebook.
 
She got on board the train called ''living'', she drove right by the passing silhouette of time.
 
And the one she was sharing a seat with was sadness.
 
But she only realized that after the fact.
 
We scattered the nights away, we scattered the summer away, and a new dawn shines so unapologetically upon them.
 
At the afterparty of a live show, caught in a fight with angry drunks, we ran away as fast as we could, and we took a piss on their van.
 
Beautiful memories are always at night: the glowing billboards an the moonlight, and just the two of us, like etchings carved in stone.
 
If we could fly just by imagining, it wouldn't be the ends of space, but inside of me, where we would dig up the sceneries we want to see again.
 
We'd be digging them up like we were grave robbers.
 
And it would get us dirtier than you could dream of, like splattears of paint on work clothes.
 
But I guess romaticists are always caked in mud.
 
If we piled those vistas up, then the amount we'd pile up would be so heavy that we probably couldn't even move them.
 
Everything in the world is junk.
 
It's flashy junk, and nothing else.
 
Stupidly loud music, careless intoxication - the real truth in the world is those moments where the music pauses.
 
The girl I loved was like a drop of water in a desert, but in time she too sizzled and dried up.
 
We scattered the nights away, we scattered the summer away, and a new dawn shines so unapologetically upon them.
 
Those nights when we laughed wildly are still ringing in my ears, and now, on sleepless nights, they cut into me like a knife.
 
A river stretches out between us: a river by the name of ''time''.
 
What we called ''youth'' is just a dried-out husk: I changed the same way you did.
 
Our parting was decided from the start.
 
And just like the brightest star in the sky, we burnt out just as fast.
 
Haruki, from my point of view, you're tumor: an incurable impetus to venture into the unknown.
 
Like insects, drawn toward the brightest light they see, where are we supposed to go when we're in broad daylight?
 
The times change, other people change, and even now, then dawn shines so unapologetically.
 

Monologue(censored)

Why does it gets farther away from me, as I talk about myself?
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The moon is beautiful

I talk some words to you, and you answer me with some words
It is suery words that has shortened the distance between you and me
Just what I thought while I lay on the ground and look up to the stary sky
is the words I'm going to talk
 
We are always straying as dust in the universe
Since we all are tied to the ground,
it's our instinct that we try to protest the gravity
 
Why do tears drops to the ground? It's because they have certain weight
The joy and agony for our lives are like satelites for planets
I wanted to grasp only joy. But since I got too close, I crashed to the ground
I felt it was messed, and cried. By the way, the moon is beautiful today
 
I measure time with words. I throw away the past which is 1000 words away
He is 10000 words far from me, so I went for a drink with him to get closer
As a result, I walked with an unsteady gait heading for my home. I had no idea whether I was going north or south
I surrendered and laid on the road. If I was supposed to go to the sky, I could go without losing myseld
 
Do not criticize others in order to save your pride
Sew up as soon as it gets some rents in it
It looks ragged, with many patching. But it's what beliefs are usually like
 
Since we can't fly, I could see the scenary. Trivial beauties are suitable for us
The joy and agony for our lives are like satelites for planets
I wanted to keep away from onry sorrow. But since I got too far, I was released
It was so dark that I couldn't help crying. By the way, the moon is beautiful today
 
How many words do I have to spend to reach that planet?
It's natural that I get stubborn, because it's my life
I pile up so many, and they collapse. The higher it gets, the less stable yourmy foothold gets
Resist. Resist. Resist the gravity.
I'm not interested in suceeding anything with that
I'm just going against. I'm just going against.
 
The blank of losing and lacking. I chose something to fill it.
The joy and agony for our lives are like satelites for planets
The words for us, tied by the gravity, to reach that star
We lie on the road. By the way, the moon is beautiful today
 

Cherry Blossoms

Versions: #2
At that time, we were always looking vacantly up the sky on the roof of an office building
We slipped out from the workplace together, covered with sweat and dust, and taiked about fantasy stories.
We heardthe rattle of Chuo-line train over an elevated bridge, like a toy
 
Hey, We were so subborn, but after all, did we really make right choices?
We believed we weren't weong at all, and we would make it someday
We often bite our lips hard, and suffer at night
However, our wordless scream in that darkness, like a wailing, was
stamped on Senkawa street, like the corpse of a crow. the pain, the pain
 
Are you kidding? Never make it end here. Don't call our jouney such an ordinary word, like 'youth', and see it past!
I'll never forget the tears of vexitation gushed from our eyes, when we heard the sound of footsteps leaving us
While we pick up abandoned fliers, we realized spring had come
We smiled grimly, watchng the falling
 
cherry blossoms
 
I used to hate the big tree in front of the windows, since it blocks the sunlight from my loom
Untill the spring came and the tree's flowers bloomed, I hated the tree
This episode now seems like a trivial thing, but I still regret a little
Maybe it was relly meaningless story. Sorry.
 
I've been thinking why I feel so sad whenever I see the sunset around the rotary in front of the station
It's sad because it's an end? or becauseit's a beginning? The street rights start to go on gradually
That is to say, an end is equal to a beggining. If that's the case, these tears are unneccesary. so get lost at once!
My chest hurt, hurt
 
The spring wind strayed into the room where I'm living alone. The curtain we chose together is swinging.
Why didn't you carry out this void feeling from me when you carried out your baggage from this room?
I tried to behave as if nothing had happened. On the washed clothes you dried in the sun at the last day,
I found sticked
 
Cherry blossoms
 
The persons we part with and the persons we met anew. Basically, a story have a begging and an end.
If that's the case, The sorrows I experienced in my story are the rules I have to obey when I live my life
While I pick up the tears I had abandoned, I realized the spring had come
I keep on singing, singing, singing,
 
Oh cherry blossoms, cherry brossoms, It has not
Cherry brossoms bloom, faded yet
Oh cherry blossoms, cherry brossoms, our stories
where cherry brossoms bloom someday
 

amazarashi - Beginning at the End 終わりで始まり

Versions: #2
The night sky that I always looked up at on my way back home, somehow it seems different from back then.
 
Ah, that's right. I got a little too accustomed to normality.
 
No, that's not it either.
 
It's that, even now, every day doens't make me smile that much.
 
Even my friends from back in the day stopped goofing around.
 
Yep, that's right. They oughta be respectable fathers by now.
 
And in my room, making a face as if I were dying, I'm finally able to sing a song like this.
 
Thanks to my friends, I'm still standing.
 
Thanks to my family, I can walk.
 
And thanks to you, I'm still living.
 
I don't really want to say thanks, but hey, one day, when we all go our separety ways, even at that time, I want to be smilling.
 
''Even the bluest days of our past turned out right in the end'' - I want to be smilling, so that I can say that proudly.
 
And just like that, even our dreams that didn't come true at some point become no more than scenery that passes us by.
 
In the end, with these hands still empty, we're waving a big good-bye to each other.
 
And in these eyes, which could't even come up eith something to say, I'm holding back the tears as we give our goodbyes.
 
Don't get so down! This is just the starting line!
 
Our new beginning at the end.
 
This world isn't really that beautiful, but hey, there's no need for us to hurry through it so fast, is there?
 
The world often betrays our expectations, but sometimes we can find happiness that we weren't even expecting.
 
So I'm going to muscle through all the times I've been betrayed, since those betrayals are proof that I tried to believe i something.
 
And I've lost every ounce of what I didn't trust.
 
I don't really want to say that I've been hurt, so, from now on, no matter what happens, I want us to live rushing forward, without ever looking back.
 
''The yesterday we stumbled over were just the lead-up'' - I want to live rushing forward, so that I can say that proudly.
 
And by doing just that, even our now-tragic memories will become the funny stories we recount to others.
 
And at that time, with my knees finally giving out, I'll rush right out of this darkness.
 
And at that time, I'll be clenching sand in my palms, because I wanted to hold on to something real.
 
You get it, don't you? This is just the starting line!
 
Our new beginning at the end.
 
The days pass us by, the years pass us by, the people who matter most pass us by.
 
''I have to hurry! I have to hurry!''
 
But I got a little flustered, and I stumbied over, ''I can't move at all!'' - even as I was sprawled out on the ground, time passed by.
 
So I thought, and thought, and finally reassured myself.
 
I stood back up, and I broke out running, and right then, the sky that I always looked up at seemed different from back then.
 
And that's because I'm living in the future of those days.
 
I don't want to have everything be for nothing!
 
None of it was a mistake!
 
And the person supporting me right now, is the ''me'' that was so disheartened those days.
 
''Thank you'' and ''I love you'' - I don't really get what they mean, but I wanted to be singing them.
 
''You were right for having believed in me back then'' - I want to be singing so that I can say that proudly.
 
So this is all I want to say: what keeps pushing me forward is that face of yours, smilling for me.
 
With this arm that I kept reaching out back then, I'm strumming hard on this guitar.
 
And with the mouth that could't say anything back then, I'm screaming out this shitty song.
 
Every time, this is just the starting line!
 
Our new beginning at the end.
 
A beginning at the end.
 

amazarashi - Flowers Will Bloom Atop Someone's Corpse 花は誰かの死体に咲く

Versions: #2
The roadside trees are seeped in scarlet and feigned ignorance, while I stand beneath a frigid sky with a feeling of betrayal.
 
The world is full of awful news, but if I plug my ears, I won't be able to hear the departure bell. Lord mercy on me.
 
A mother stands stupefied on the desolate Asahi street, as bomber planes fly over the peaceful coastal waters.
 
Life and fantasy are but a mere shadow of popular culture and escapism.
 
It's been about seven million years since the dawn of humanity. And if the corpses of all those who have died to this ay are buried in the ground, then the whole world, even the town where you live, is all somebody's grave.
 
And though that might sound pretty morbid, I take solace in that fact.
 
Even these high-rise buildings and apartments are like tombstones.
 
Can you take apart my melancholy, misery, and memories?
 
Though they might not be beautiful, tiny flowers have bloomed.
 
They legitimize your pathetic existence: living without a choice, not even given a name.
 
Discarded, rotten garbage. Those who died with their regrets unresolved.
 
Even dreams of strangers which could never come true.
 
They'll all return to the earth, leaving nothing behind, and flowers will bloom atop someone's corpse.
 
The city tries to keep the night away, so beneath the starry sky, we've made so much commotion that it's sparked a wildfire: Glittering skylines. Illuminated billboards.
 
At long last, the city has triumphed over lonesomeness.
 
And yet, compared to wandering alone through the countryside at night, why the hell does this thriving city feel so lonely?
 
It must be the way I compare myself to others. All my happiness has been relative.
 
Though they might not be beautifu, when my worn-down friends smile, it legitimizes all my failures: there's neither shame nor honor on a path I didn't choose.
 
The person you once held so tight. The scorn in the headwinds.
 
Even your victories, which were never once appreciated.
 
They'll all return to the earth, leaving nothing behind, and flowers will bloom atop someone's corpse.
 
Even if makind started anew on our former battlefields, even if we brought flowers to the sites of disastrous tragedies, even if trees continue to take root in the tows we've abandoned, even if insects should swarm on the offrings to our forefathers, we're living in vain. Just go ahead and laugh!
 
Farewells are over in an instant. Just go ahead and sing!
 
At dusk, when we hold onto our withering lives and weep, offer a eulogy to life upon this trodden earth.
 
Though it might not be beautiful, if life still smiles upon us today, it will legitimize the hubris of mankind: Live as though we could escape this fate!
 
The days when were able to smile together.
 
The suffering on days when we faced loss.
 
Even our lives, which seem like they could be snuffed out without warning.
 
They'll all return to the earth, leaving nothing behind, and flowers will bloom atop someone's corpse.
 

amazarashi - A Feeling of Life 生活感

Versions: #2
amazarashi - A Feeling of Life 生活感
 
The reflected light of the highway flares in the blue sky.
 
A mirage of the Milky Way, the Northern Star feels alive.
 
More fuel in the heater. A night of deep snow.
 
The smoke rises up endlessly. The whooping cough starts to act up.
 
In the forest at the hase of a precipitous mountain, a moonlit night that only comes once every thousands of years.
 
An invoice that elicits a sigh.
 
The girl sleeps soundly, cloaked in stillness.
 
On a wallpaper depicting a dense forest, a centipede makes its way across the world.
 
Persistent stains cling to my song.
 
Persistent stains cling to my song.
 
Persistent stains cling to my song.
 
To this song of joy, this ode.
 
Persistent stains cling to my song.
 
Persistent stains cling to my song.
 
Persistent stains cling to my song.
 
To this song of joy, this ode.
 

amazarashi - Waiting for Spring 春待ち

Versions: #2
amazarashi - Waiting for Spring 春待ち
 
The alley to the right, when your back faces the station, meets a dead end at a freight warehouse.
 
There, across the corner from a coin laundry, is the road to her house.
 
''Though I follow a number of memories, the road I'll follow is this alone.''
 
I stay with only these sentimentalities, which I'll one day leave behind.
 
A certain town. The passing of heavy rain.
 
A blanket of snow. Damp, slushy snow.
 
In the end, I rise up against the dancing snow, and I wait for spring.
 
At the mercy of high waves the gulls drifting about beneath the midnight sun are lost in the engulfing darkness. I offer my condolences, and I wait for spring.
 
Beyond this point, the darkness grows. I wince at it.
 
Suddenly, the lyrics I've written are worthless, so I wait for spring.
 
The flowers count the seconds until their bloom. Faintly, sunlight pours in.
 
A good omen. On this day, I leave town, and wait for spring.
 
Somewhere, I'll wait for spring.
 
Somewhere, I'll wait for spring.
 
Somewhere.
 
Somewhere.
 

amazarashi - The Reason I Wanted To Die 僕が死のうと思ったのは

Versions: #2
The Reason I Wanted To Die
 
The reason I wanted to die, was that seagulls were squawking down by the wharf.
 
They floated off at the mercy of the waves.
 
Peck away at my past, too, before you fly off.
 
The reason I wanted to die, was that our apricot tree blossomed on my birthay.
 
When I dozed off in its dappled sunlight, I wondered if I could join all the dead bugs and return to dust.
 
Peppermint candy. The lamplight of a fishing harbour.
 
In front of a stove in a wooden station building, but there's nowhere my heart can embark.
 
Today was exactly the same as yesterday.
 
''If you want to change tomorrow you have to change today!''
 
I get that. I get it. But still...
 
The reason I wanted to die, was that my heart had become hollow.
 
The reason I cry about how unsatisfied I am, is surely because I'm wishing for fulfillment.
 
The reason I wanted to die, was that my shoelaces had come untied.
 
I was never really that good at re-tying them.
 
My relationships with others are same way, too.
 
The reason I wanted to die, was that a teenager was staring right at me.
 
And now I'm prostrated atop my bed, apologizing to my younger self.
 
The dim light of the computer. The ambient noise from the floors above.
 
A bird-caged boy, plugging his ears to block out the interphone chime.
 
I'm fighting with an enemy I can't even see, like I'm Don Quixote in this 10x10 bedroom.
 
And in the end, what I'm fighting for is a truly unseemly thing.
 
The reason I wanted to die, was that I was called a cold-hearted person.
 
The reason I cry that I long to be loved, is that can't unlearn the warmth of another person's touch.
 
The reason I wanted to die, was that you smile so beautifully.
 
The reason I can't stop thinking about death, must be that I take living too seriously.
 
The reason I wanted to die, was that I still hadn't met you yet!
 
If the world has people like you in it, then I like the world a little bit more.
 
If the world has people like you in it, then I have a little bit more hope for the world.
 

amazarashi - In the Darkness: To Leave and Never Return

Versions: #2
In the Darkness: To Leave and Never Return
 
Sucking on a piece of hard candy, in a school building the night before the war, jailed-up teenagers whistle the moonlit night.
 
And on the two-day-old newspaper that clings to the iron fences are the typical sensationalist headlines and smiles of a mother and father.
 
On the veranda of an apartment building, a pack of panty-raiding boys - steal the capitalism-glorifying lingerie.
 
In my case, I want to get in a little bit of trouble tonight, so I'm packing contraband CDs and a knife in my backpack.
 
Misery is continuing to act miserable, while being miserable all the while.
 
And my misery makes me boast about how miserable I am.
 
''If it's sunny out tomorrow, let's go play catch or something!'' - Catch this emotionally unstable curveball!
 
The days always pass us by, and they always leave us in the dust.
 
We missed the last train, and we're waiting for daybreak on the platform.
 
But we're such cowards, so we always cry as though we were the victims.
 
And we'll cry untill these excuse-like tears return to the sea.
 
It's like I'm driving a bomb-rigged truck down the rough roads of the Middle East with a speed far greater than merely hurrying toward death.
 
And though that's not really the reason, I'm going out on a journey.
 
There's exhaust gas in the headwinds, and I've got the Blue Hearts playing on cassette.
 
Tomorrow will take care of itself, just like it always does.
 
Our freedom always makes us run off at the mouth about how restrained we are.
 
If yesterday never comes back once it leaves, then on recycling day, it can take with it the thrown out heap of classified magazines.
 
The days always pass us by, and they always leave us in the dust.
 
We missed the last train, and we're waiting for daybreak on the platform.
 
But we're such cowards, so we always cry as though we were the victims.
 
And we'll cry untill these excuse-like tears return to the sea.
 
Until they return to the sea.
 
Until they return to the sea.
 
''Do we keep going? Do we turn back?'' We can't look back ever again!
 
''Do we keep going? Do we turn back?'' Once you stand still, it's over!
 
Like empty soda cans that didn't make it into the park trash bin - Look! Our unfulfilled dreams from way back when are littered on the ground.
 
The days always pass us by, and they always leave us in the dust.
 
We missed the last train, and we're waiting for daybreak on the platform.
 
But we're such cowards, so we always cry as though we were the victims.
 
And we'll cry untill these excuse-like tears return to the sea.
 
Until they return to the sea.
 
Until they return to the sea.
 

amazarashi - Living Dead (リビングデッド) Song 2018

Living dead
 
Take a closer look: they run rampant in an age where nobody can be innocent.
 
Even as they condemn one another, they just grow apathetic again.
 
The hole that opened up when love left us -there are no idols large enough to fill it here.
 
Or at the very least are none in my room.
 
They keep stuff like ''I want to keep living'' and ''I just want to die already''
 
Oh, living dead.
 
Oh, living dead.
 
They wander idly through life.
 
Some say, ''I can't take this anymore!'' as they jump from rooftops.
 
The rest have faces that say ''That's none of my business. If I can live without taking that responsibility, then I'll do just that.''
 
Even though there's no such thing as ''eternity'', we made up a world for it, and now we choke up with tears at impermanence.
 
When we scream our regrets, weaknesses, and tears loud enough, they become songs.
 
So to the people whose tears won't dry up: go on and sing!
 
Let's stop throwing stones at each other when we falter and fail.
 
After all, everyone makes mistakes sometimes.
 
In fact, we're already making one right now: Because we're linving in an age where it's no skin off your back if you don't love your neighbor, and understanding each other isn't such a simple thing to do.
 
''Which way was it? I don't care anymore. I'll just go where I want.''
 
Oh, living dead.
 
Oh, living dead.
 
They aren't hindered by the corpses they wear.
 
They don't back.
 
They can't turn back.
 
But even still, they can't choose a path.
 
Never looking back, always gazing up at tomorrow's sky.
 
Even though there's no such thing as ''correct'', we made up a word for it.
 
Tomorrow, yet again, we'll be clinging to our hatchets.
 
When we confess by ourselves our cowardice, crimes, and disgrace, they become songs.
 
So to the people who won't be forgiven: go on and sing!
 
If we're searching for righteousness, then at the very least won't find it here. We won't find it here.
 
A steam train could make a full journey, fuelled by all the mistaken emotions of dejected losers.
 
It's all horseshit.
 
We have no choice but to give up on honesty and integrity. We've dirtied our hands.
 
And if some haughty prick belittles that as worthless drivel, I'll kill them it their sleep.
 
Burn away your unfulfilled wishes.
 
Burn away your unrealized dreams.
 
Burn away your fruitless resentment.
 
Burn away the nights that never fully died.
 
Even though there's no such thing as ''absolute'', we made up a word for it.
 
Why are we always keeping an eye out for what our neighbors might do?
 
When we sink our inferioty complexes and self-loathing down to the bottom, they become songs.
 
So to the people who can't quite die: go on and sing!
 

amazarashi - ''14 Years Old'' 14歳

Versions: #2
14 Years Old
 
Songs of ash.
 
Powerlessness.
 
Grief and mourning.
 
The gloom of crows, sitting on the overhead wire of the North-bound Joban Line platform.
 
The gloom of the girl watching them, shouldering days that she can't laugh away.
 
''Every day, it's always the same, but I'm not a kid anymore. So I won't chase after the things that have left, and I won't look back on things past. I still feel like I'm making a mistake, but there's surely no getting around that.''
 
The long hair of a boy, who came to Tokyo with a dream sways in the gust from the city's high-rises. And she watches it.
 
She watches.
 
With the eves of a crow, she watches.
 
She watches.
 
Songs of ash.
 
Powerlessness.
 
Grief and mourning.
 
I have no idea where I am.
 
I can't put up with the lingering ridicule.
 
It's like white dwarf star down an alleyway, and I'd like to be incinerated in it.
 
In an instant, I'd be turned to dust, blow off into the wind, and disappear.
 
But I'm cooped up in a locked room, so I won't even burn out or anything.
 
A father and son were laughing out on the veranda of an orange apartment building.
 
Their voices were confident that good things would happen tomorrow.
 
But it was a little heartbreaking, just how confident those voices were.
 
Because with dark clouds in the distante, I'm sure there will be rain tomorrow.
 
It wasn't fun, but we tried to smile.
 
And yet, we're still empty inside.
 
Right now, I need to start doing something.
 
In that case, I'll sing songs.
 
I'll sing the songs that I love.
 
I'll sing the songs that I love.
 
I'll sing the songs that I love.
 
Songs of ash.
 
Powerlessness.
 
Grief and mourning.
 
In the attic of teenage self-consciousness, which wanted to fit in more than anything else, all the light is blocked out by posters that say things like, ''I didn't want people to dislike me''.
 
''What on earth can I even become?'' - in the end, I didn't really become anything.
 
Still today I live on, sipping an evening dew that resembles the embers of adolescence.
 
Unlike all the American movies, my happy ending never came.
 
In the end I'm still me, so in the end today is still today.
 
I thought we were supposed to have the power to change our futures.
 
A run-of-the-mill variety show playing on TV made me laugh a little.
 
It wasn't sad, but tears still fell.
 
That's because we're always empty inside.
 
Right now, I need to start doing something. In that case, I'll sing songs.
 
I'll sing the songs that I love.
 
I'll sing the songs that I love.
 
I'll sing the songs that I love.
 
She didn't want to live, but she still survived.
 
Because even today, she's still empty inside.
 
Right now, I need to convey something. In that case, I'll sing songs.
 
Though dreams don't really exist, I tried to sing.
 
Because in the end, everything is garbage.
 
Right now, I need to leave something behind. In that case, I'll sing songs.
 
I'll sing the songs that I love.
 
I'll sing the songs that I love.
 
I'll sing the songs that I love.
 
Songs of ash.
 
Powerlessness.
 
Grief and mourning.
 

amazarashi - “Mayday, Mayday!” メーデーメーデー

Versions: #2
Men and women of all ages bleach their retinas, clouded by limitless pleasures.
 
They march mindlessly along to the tune of depravity.
 
Resistance is futile.
 
Tyranny of the majority.
 
No is not even an option.
 
That still, small voice in your head? Kill him.
 
Ignorance incarnate, incompetence, and trash are our moral compass now.
 
The opposers, who stay clear of the dazzling, popular world are cornered here, backed against the wall of modern rationalism.
 
We pray for the many victims on the other side of the TV, but click our tongues at the suicide victim who delayed today's train.
 
Our ill intentions are unconscious, like sighs, and they saturate Tokyo with a smell like fast-food oil.
 
A moment of silence.
 
“Keep it down, you're so noisy!”, my self-consciousness can't help but blurt out, “Stop ruining the silence!”.
 
Trampled asphalt, an anatomy purged of all life - if we should die equally in this land, the Sister!
 
Please show us mercy on us outlanders!
 
What is “immorality”? For it was good that begat evil.
 
We cling tight to it, immediately after it abuses us - “You whore!”
 
The age of mankind's rebellion is at last ushered is by the 21st century.
 
In order to redefine value, virtue, and beauty, we have a sword sharpened for insurrection, hymns of lamentation.
 
You haven't forgotten who you are, have you?
 
At a used bookstore, Heidegger comes at a dollar a pop.
 
High-rise buildings.
 
Anonymity.
 
Irony.
 
Materialism.
 
Coughed-up blood.
 
Sensitivity.
 
Destined to burn.
 
A shameless civilization.
 
And our only consolations are that we die after the final chorus and that nirvana comes eventually.
 
We weep at such a naturally evident condemnation, “Mayday! Mayday!” with a naive love that wails like a child.
 
After graduating college, he found a job at a small company.
 
He took that as the opportunity to settle down with the classmate he had been dating.
 
Sons and daughters, one by one.
 
Blessed by a family of four.
 
Work was hard, but the salary was better than average, so he was at ease for a while.
 
He sacrificed so many things.
 
he gritted his teeth through all the humiliation.
 
For his efforts, it seemed like he might be able to afford that brand new apartment downtown.
 
Light started to shine a bit.
 
He worked himself harder than ever before.
 
But that ended poorly.
 
Ambition and vanity kept him away from his friends.
 
Rumors spread about how loathsome he was.
 
He was insulted and scorned.
 
“Don't stand out”, he admonished himself Peer pressure.
 
Bottom of the hierarchy.
 
Housing costs.
 
Down payments.
 
Savings.
 
He realized he was no more than a chained- up dog.
 
He couldn't bear to let down his wife's smiling face.
 
──── That's all what I guess happened, to the guy who jumped in front the train today.
 
High-rise buildings.
 
Anonymity.
 
Irony.
 
Materialism.
 
Coughed-up blood.
 
Sensitivity.
 
Destined to burn.
 
A shameless civilization.
 
And our only consolations are that we die after the final chorus and that nirvana comes eventually.
 
We weep at such a naturally evident condemnation, “Mayday! Mayday!” with a naive love that wails like a child.
 
Should we lay them off?
 
Should we discriminate?
 
Should they be weeded out?
 
Truth is, that very sort of malice is ubiquitous.
 
These days, if you're able to have the confidence that you'll be alright, you're either stupidly powerful or just plain stupid.
 
If the only reason you vent your anger on others is that you want to flaunt your status, then you should keep that filthy, sewage drain of a mouth shut.
 
Is this a loveless era? I don't think so.
 
But I've seen love carelessly handled countless times.
 
I love people.
 
But more than that, I've hated people too.
 
There are bastards I want to kill, but I've also met people I want to protect.
 
The time to idly resent the world is over.
 
I plan to pay it back.
 
But if it gets to than point, I wonder if I'm going to have to fight.
 
Win or lose, top or bottom - it's not about that.
 
Not prizes or awards either: it's already a fight for survival.
 
Can you afford to be distracted?
 
Can you bear to stay silent?
 
Will you please just make it out of this alive?
 
High-rise buildings.
 
Anonymity.
 
Irony.
 
Materialism.
 
Coughed-up blood.
 
Sensitivity.
 
Destined to burn.
 
A shameless civilization.
 
And our only consolations are that we die after the final chorus and that nirvana comes eventually.
 
We weep at such a naturally evident condemnation, “Mayday! Mayday!” with a naive love that wails like a child.
 
“Mayday! Mayday!” with a naive love that wails like a child.
 
“Mayday! Mayday!” with a naive love that wails like a child.
 

amazarashi - Karappo no sora ni tsubusareru (空っぽの空に潰される)

Versions: #4
amazarashi - Crushed Beneath an Empty Sky
 
I collected too many letters that I had to get rid of my own belongings.
 
Just as I finally start to feel satisfied, the truth is it empty again.
 
''It's better to have more money'',
 
''It's better to have more friends'',
 
''It's better to have more peace of mind''
 
- what is ''happiness'' in the end?
 
We speel ''frantic'' as ''certain of death'',
 
we speel ''dazed'' as ''inside of a dream''.
 
And, right now, frantic and dazed, we're running through the seasons.
 
Our injuries wouldn't stop growing, but we had friends who could laugh and say, ''It hurts!''
 
But don't envy your past self- that person's only an imaginary rival.
 
If you're happy, you should laugh, right?
 
But in that time, what can I even do? Tell me! Tell me!
 
I'm crushed beneath this empty, empty, empty sky!
 
When you're sad, you should cry, right?
 
So what should I do when I feel so empty? Tell me! Tell me!
 
These curt seasons come one after another, saying goodbye without any reluctance.
 
And on top of that, what should I even look forward to? Tell me! Tell me!
 
I'm crushed beneath this empty, empty, empty sky.
 
In the end, ''human beings'' seem to have one or two things missing.
 
Do you think we're lacking something?
 
Do you think we're in need of something?
 
I only have as little baggage as I need, and for me that's more than enough.
 
So let's see if I can run again.
 
Let's see if I can run, frantic and dazed.
 
Today comes to an and, and another today comes around.
 
I can't go anywhere as they stream past, but when I said I hate the things I hate, I've finally washed ashore at this ''today''.
 
That's why today is an anniversary: the anniversary of when I finally took a stand.
 
But there's still just one problem: today feels completely empty.
 
If you're happy, you should laugh, right?
 
When you're sad, you should cry, right?
 
So what should I do when I feel so empty? Tell me! Tell me!
 
The people and things we loved abruptly disappear, saying goodbye without any reluctance.
 
And on top of that, what should I even look forward to? Tell me! Tell me!
 
I'm crushed beneath this empty, empty, empty sky.
 
Would things get easier if I complained? Would things get easier if I did nothing but cry?
 
Does it feel nice to say ''I want to die''?
 
Do I even want to take another step from here?
 
I left something behind somewhere, in a classroom or maybe back in the womb.
 
''Happiness'' must be learning to love your permanent flaws.
 
If you're happy, you should laugh, right?
 
When you're sad, you should cry, right?
 
So what should I do when I feel so empty? Tell me! Tell me!
 
I came all this way from a dark place, only to return back to another dark place.
 
But in that time, what can I even do? Tell me! Tell me!
 
I'm crushed beneath this empty, empty, empty sky!
 

amazarashi『ポルノ映画の看板の下で』|| Poruno eiga no kanban no shitade

Versions: #2
''Underneath the billboard of a pornographic movie''
 
The shadow of an old apartment complex stretches out, and it engulfs an abandoned bed of flowers,
 
full of grave markers written in pen by children.
 
The flowers, in their windswept uncertainty, refuse to bloom.
 
Vagrant crows splash around in the water - in the parking lot of a taxi company.
 
A rusted fence decays along the roadside, almost like this city's laceration scars.
 
Almost like this city's laceration scars.
 
I often say, ''It's too painful, it's too painful'', but there's no time I've ever died from the anguish.
 
This feeling of loneliness is just the perfect amount Almost every day it's just the perfect amount.
 
That's why I dress myself in it, like the jester of a play set in the night sky.
 
Is what's falling stardust, or is it trash?
 
Either way, it's nothing more than rubbish.
 
If going on living is such a bother, then dying once and for all is also a bother.
 
And making these songs is also a bother.
 
All around the world, everything is just a bother.
 
Underneath the billboard of a pornographic movie, a young woman is always waiting for someone.
 
And if she wears her careless ''everyday'' in place of a scarf, her frozen, numb future still won't warm up, and whatever she calls ''dreams'' are just vain idols.
 
But those are the kinds of idols I worship, like an angel fallen from grace. (basically, a person without virtue)
 
''If you wish for something, it will come true! It will come true! It will come true!'' -
 
That's what my guardian angel keeps nagging, but it doesn't do me any good.
 
''The cherry blossoms scatter away, and that's what makes them beautiful''- almost as if they're trying to liken it to human life.
 
If that's just run-of-the-mill romanticism - then it's something I used to hold on to, too.
 
When the flowers scatter away, it brings me to tears.
 
When the flowers bloom, it brings me to tears.
 
Even the end of a long day brings me to tears.
 
And it doesn't make a difference when I point out how depressing that is.
 
If thinking optimistically is such a bother, then thinking pessimistically is a bother too.
 
And falling asleep is a bother too.
 
Each and every little thing is just a bother.
 
Underneath the billboard of a pornographic movie, a young woman is always waiting for someone.
 
Even if she wears these carefree memories as earings, those expressionless days will do nothing but abandon her.
 
If dreams themselves are our last salvation, then I'll go around preaching that like a megalomaniac.
 
''If you wish for something, it will come true! It will come true! It will come true!'' -
 
That's what my guardian angel keeps nagging, me, but it doesn't do me any good.
 
Derisions, like insects, swarm around a town lamp-post, its light of hope flickers on and disappears, and each and every face tries to float up into the light.
 
Even if light were like an unwavering lantern, you can't trust your own speculations - that is to say your resignation.
 
The red color of blood that spills at the brink of surrender - is the red of the evening sky back home, the red certain death in the face of flames.
 
It all flows with so much anguish.
 
And mere time slips away.
 
Is there a sort of empty despair in that?
 
Is there any place to start anew in that?
 
Urderneath the billboard of pornographic movie, a young woman is always waiting for someone.
 
Even if she decorates her flowerpots with her carefree hopes, these dreary days will remain bland and dull, and if dreams themselves are struggle of humankind, then all of our sympathizers will go around preaching that.
 
''If you wish something, it will come true! It will come true! It will come true!'' -
 
That's what my guardian angel keeps nagging me, but it doesn't do me any good.
 
(but it doesn't do me any good...)
 
(but it doesn't do me any good...)
 

amazarashi - Getsuyoubi ''Monday'' (月曜日)

Versions: #2
Monday
 
The smell of moldy urethane in the P.E. storehouse, the court lines separate us clearly.
 
A pigeon is lying dead in the walkway, next to a tidier than usual stream of discarded textbooks.
 
Road side trees bound to supporting stakes, almost like crucifixions made to set an example.
 
Even though they way want to stretch out their branches freely, they seem like they're bound by their identical uniforms.
 
They turn to the right, then look to the left, then they face the other way, like a grammer school line-up.
 
Our immaturity was clearly mean to relieve us, so can you please be theonly one to not grow up?
 
If we were to say no to Mondays, we'd despised and left in the dump, tumbling around and rusting from the tidal breeze.
 
The reason it's so hard for us to breath, is because this isn't a place for us to live.
 
Maybe we're extra-terrestrial life?
 
Saying that you like things that you like, was it always this hard of a thing to do?
 
If that's so, I'll hold my breath and dive in.
 
Even though compared to the depth within your chest, it doesn't even come close at all.
 
Waiting idly at the train station building's concourse, our soft-serve ice cream melted, and every time the drawn-out car horns got closer, I learned more and more that there are so many things that I didn't learn in that off-district school overlooking the river.
 
I hate talking about tomorrow to begin-with, and I hate talking about the future even more.
 
People say they're beautiful because they're fleeting, but I think it would be better if fireworks lasted forever.
 
I pretend that I can't see the things I can see, and I pretend I don't know the things I know.
 
When I think of how much I've grown up without realizing, it's gotten to a point that I can't help but to laugh.
 
If we were to say no to Mondays, and skipped stones on the surface of the river, we could split the full moon's reflection in half.
 
The reason that my chest hurts so much, is that we're sharing the things we think and feel with and feel with each other.
 
Or maybe I'm telepathic?
 
Saying that you dislike the things you don't like, I wonder if that's really such a selfish thing to do?
 
If that's so, I'll hold my breath and dive in.
 
Even though compared to the depth within your chest, it doesn't even come close at all.
 
Since we could neither become normal or ordinary, we at least wanted to become special individuals, but since we couldn't be special individuals either, we at least needed people to accept us.
 
Well that's the case for you, and maybe it's the case for me, and even if we were left behind in trash cans, from my perspective, for a long time already, you've already become special, you know?
 
Well if we were to say no to Mondays,we would just burn up in the atmosphere, and a crater would open up in my chest.
 
We were definitely very similar to each other, but we're just not meant to be identical people.
 
The most terrifying thing to do is say goodbye, so because of that, let's make promise that until the end of time, we'll never leave each other.
 
Even though I know it won't really be the end of time, and the thing I swore, doesn't even come close to how long love and friendship last.
 

amazarashi - Natsu wo matte imashita (夏を待っていました)

Versions: #3
amazarashi - We Were Waiting for Summer
 
Hey, do you still remember that hot June back when we were young?
 
We walked along those abandoned rail tracks as far they would take us.
 
With Masatoshi, excitedly, wearing something like a canteen, bragging about the mountain bike his dad bought him.
 
“But hey, you know, I hate my old man, cause all he ever does is make mom cry.”
 
I was a little embarrassed, and I turned my eyes away, because there was a big bruise on Masatoshi's face.
 
Running through a sudden evening rain, taking shelter in a run-down train station, “What do you want to do tomorrow?” “And the next day?”
 
We rolled around laughing at pointless stories - my chest throbs as I feel a storm coming.
 
Back then, we were all, whithout a doubt, waiting for summer.
 
“I don't want to be here” and “I want to go somewhere”, they both have the same meahing, right? At any hate, let's get going.
 
Yasuhito was terrible at P.E. and sports more than anything else, and at the end of the day, clutching his knee, whispered, “I'm always holding everyone else back... I'm really sorry for being such a worthless friend”
 
For some reason, we all broke out laughing.
 
By the end, even Yasuhito laughed with teary eyes.
 
Playing hide-and-seek in the tall summer grass, waiting for “it” to finish counting, “Are you all ready?”, “No, not yet!” we'd shout.
 
Even now, nobody found found me yet, so I clutched my knees just like I did that day, I looked up at the blue sky from my bedroom, and I waited for summer.
 
Tall in stature and tough in a fight, Taihei was always coming up with ridiculous games: “Whoever can hang from that bridge railing the longest, no matter what they tell us to do, we have do to it!”
 
We were all too scared, and couldn't do it at all, but Taihei hung there with a without breaking a sweat.
 
Seven years later, Taihei jumped off a building.
 
If that's courage, it would have been better if he didn't have it.
 
Now we're playing hide-and-seek in the shadow of high-rise buildings, and I wonder, how long has is been since those days?
 
“Are you all ready?” “No, not yet!” There's no voice calling that out anymore.
 
If today is just a continuation of those days, then I had no choice but to continue my adventure, so I looked up at that June sky, and I waited for summer.
 

amazarashi - hakisou da ''Nauseated'' (吐きそうだ)

Versions: #2
amazarashi - Nauseated
 
What is ''a reason to live''? Is it something as small as a morning cup of coffee? Or like countless nights of drinking? Cause I might just vomit from the first hangover.
 
Though I've moved into a new house, I'm still close friends with the western sun.
 
Peace of mind comes once you've settled into a new life, and I'm an uncommitted daydreamer.
 
I remember the landscapes hazily, those old days are like black-and-white photos.
 
I've killed ''me'' so many times, but that bloodstained ''me'' still dwells in my mind.
 
Momentarily reflected in the window at night, his eyes are ghostly and reproachful.
 
''Come back here whenever you'd like''
 
Whenever he says that, it takes so much effort to stay put: talking myself out of my own values, playing with words just to prove him wrong.
 
If you strip off my façade layer by layer, inside my head is an absolutely, loathsome person.
 
That's no surprise.
 
A fully exposed person isn't much different from an animal in the first place.
 
So basically, I'm the only one at fault. How many times has that been the punchline?
 
What is ''a reason to live''? Is it something as small as a morning cup of coffee? Or like countless nights of drinking? Cause I might just vomit from the first hangover.
 
What is ''a reason to live''? Is it something as small as a morning cup of coffee? Or like countless nights of drinking? Cause I might just vomit from the first hangover.
 
In an instant, an infinitesimal flash changes our lives.
 
But I think it's wrong to worship that flash like a god.
 
That naive sense of self-worth has bent the knee to reality.
 
And the tune of resentment on our lips has really cut deep.
 
I'm still grateful for that flash, but it's just become an excuse for laziness.
 
By only wanting to lord over those who've treated me like a fool, I've become a show-off, like some kind of vain exhibitionist.
 
At the end of the rat race, we're ashamed of the meaninglessness of such an existence.
 
But in the end, we've all contributed to the intention of the masses.
 
So given that, just get back to claiming to be the cutest, you pack of animals!
 
What is ''a reason to live''? Is it something as small as a morning cup of coffee? Or like countless nights of drinking? Cause I might just vomit from the first hangover.
 
What is ''a reason to live''? Is it something as small as a morning cup of coffee? Or like countless nights of drinking? Cause I might just vomit from the first hangover.
 
Life is a desolate breakwater overlooking the shores, rusting in the ocean spray.
 
But calling it so is an aimless way to live, so I'll tack on a half-hearted ''even still''.
 
Nowhere to belong, nowhere to go.
 
Even my soot-stained spirit is beyond my control.
 
I push my heavy legs forward, dragging along the regret of pretending not to have regrets.
 
Stop complaing. Stop whining.
 
Stop dreaming of becoming someone spectacular.
 
Just put up with it. Even if you give it your all and lose your way, don't turn back.
 
Live kindly, with a strong sense of duty.
 
Pay back favours.
 
Don't rack up debt.
 
That's loving selflessly. Is that loving selflessly?
 
Or is that just egotism? God, I hate this!
 
What is ''a reason to live''? Is it something as small as a morning cup of coffee? Or like countless nights of drinking? Cause I might just vomit from the first hangover.
 
What is ''a reason to live''? Is it something as small as a morning cup of coffee? Or like countless nights of drinking? Cause I might just vomit from the first hangover.
 

amazarashi - Taxi Driver

Versions: #2
Shopping malls, outlets, the melancholy of suburbia, family outings, suffocating crowds, portraits of saints on sweaty T-shirts, gloomy young men buying car-towing rope, planning to hang themselves from the rafters of their houses.
 
What we call suburbs are just cities that can't make up their minds, still hanging out with friends back home, occasionally having a drink, boasting about happiness while felling asphyxiated, the blue, blue sky is so blue that it's practically black.
 
Taxi driver, lament the state of the world with me.
 
Put on a hit song for those whose lives are clouded with their sighs.
 
We'll race down Route 4 with our drunken ramblings, it doesn't matter if it's politically incorrect, just talk to me.
 
An absurd blackness is stuck in the black of my throat, I feel like I'm about to spit out the things I don't want to spit out.
 
Taxi driver, take me off toward the end of the night!
 
Taxi driver, take me off toward the end of the night!
 
There was a pregnant woman standing tiredly in front of the priority seating, I was furious, but in the end I couldn't say anything.
 
Salarymen were sending out perverse imagens on the screens of their smartphones - all the unpleasantess of the world was consolidated in that train car.
 
A terrorist attack in a far off country and a crime statement - all the things I heard on the taxi radio this morning.
 
From the cab window, the high-rise buildings of Roppongi are so hideous, materialism is all over the place, it's the cornerstone of Tokyo.
 
Taxi driver, can you open up the trunk for me?
 
We have way too much luggage, we can barely walk.
 
The scenery of the city rushing by is far too gaudy, it makes our own happiness seem withered by comparison.
 
I spend all my time and effort fort a single drop of satisfaction, so, let me leave the ''getting home'' part to someone else.
 
Taxi driver, take me off toward the end of the night!
 
Taxi driver, take me off toward the end of the night!
 
Conflict in the news, jpegs of dead bodys circulating the web, people can become all but demons when they can ignore others' suffering.
 
There are peole who alienate others in the name of tolerance, there are those who ignore conflict in the name of non-violence.
 
To become a bad person, you first have to be a good one, just like how can't run away from home without living there first.
 
Mr. Driver, you've got the best mind of anyone I've met, since you're running with a philosophy built from life experience.
 
Taxi driver, can you roll down the window for me?
 
Get rid of this stale air, and let in the summer breeze.
 
My short and long-term future both have a fairly bad outlook, but there's no way that I can surrender my life to insecurity.
 
When the hell do you think we'll get out of this long tunnel?
 
It doesn't matter, just go ahead and take me as far as you can.
 
Taxi driver, take me off toward the end of the night!
 
Taxi driver, take me off toward the end of the night!
 

Us Against This Life

Versions: #2
Fireworks in the parking lot of a shopping mall, young parents bringing all their kids along,
The lights from the Walmart and baseball field,
Look like meteorites from another world.
 
A paycheck earned hungover and sick.
A city that to butterflies is allergic.
At a bypass my coworker met their end.
That makes one every year for the past ten.
 
It’s over once you wonder about what all of this means.
Or so we like to claim as we crush ants beneath our feet.
Philosophy is to us like the poem you see in a bar while in the bathroom and sitting on the seat.
And only when you’re already drop-dead drunk do you nod your head up and down in empty agreement.
Covered in sweat and lotto tickets the next day, it’s not long before you're all dry.
 
Through the trees sunlight shining, by a switchyard near the station, on you as you’re working
On the world that one day you’ll find yourself changing.
 
There was a time when it was only you and me.
We called it the world and it was brimming with peace. Our bodies connected.
In the end I would care for the sick and weak,
As the sunset lit the clouds in the country.
The ribbon on my blazer and the lovely ending scene,
On my shirt is a fresh oil stain to clean.
I load my illusions into the back of my truck.
 
In every time, it’s us against this life.
 
It feels like I might have left something behind when I left.
But I no longer have a clue what it might be.
I suppose it’s possible that I might have been the one left behind.
Always rushing around like I’m on some mission.
I just remembered my girl who rushed off was called Time.
And I can’t see her anymore. I can’t even remember the smile she wore.
 
Pain has come and gone, like a scab during a sunset, but the scars still throb.
The sound of the alarm clock from me was robbed.
 
Once there was a wasteland stretching forever before my eyes.
To my fallen friends whether you stay or should you go, courage is required for both.
I would never leave any of you all alone by the road.
Delicate and in a hole, we finally take to arms and mutiny.
From the jaws of defeat we snatch victory, our first instance of glory.
But what will our final destination be?
 
In every time, it’s us against this life.
 
I truly believed that this world would change.
I truly believed that I myself could change.
But all everything does is just separate.
If these feelings of mine don’t change, there's no room for doubt in my vocal range.
Betrayed, lead astray, and accusations you’ve no reason to say.
Flattery and reasons lame,
Words with no ink to their name.
 
A humble cafe and well-packed train,
Compliments that fall flat on their face. Accepting the blame, plus abuse and shame.
Companions who always say what they mean. Friends who were there through fire and flame.
Funny stories that honestly weren’t that funny all the same.
Music made, all your children safe, authority obtained.
Decisions shake, this past and present place and the future at stake.
 
A moment’s rest on the weekend.
Through the park blows a tepid wind, clasped together hands.
The amount of time that’s passed, and all of the warmth that it sent.
The world that I saved that day can stay evermore,
Now that I have destroyed the world that was here before.
Even with this agony, we continue to live so eagerly.
 
In every time, it’s us against this life.
 

The Nighthawk Star

I kill so many beetles and insects every night.
And now I’m to be killed by the hawk.
So this is what it feels like. I can’t stand this.
I’ll stop eating insects, and starve to death.
No, the hawk will kill me before that happens.
No, before that happens I’ll fly far, far away.
 

Sírokat ásni

Csak egy lyukat ások. Hol indult rossz irányba az életünk?
Csak egy lyukat ások. Úgy vágom az ásót a földbe mint egy megszállott.
A szél át süvít az erdőn. Olyan mintha madár vagy valami sírna a közelben.
Éjfél után jár már és én felnézek a sápadt teliholdra.
 
Csak egy lyukat ások. Ez a szerencsétlen roncs csak feladta a végén.
Csak egy lyukat ások. Ez egy lyuk azoknak akiket kidobtak megrohadni.
Ha mindened feladod, a megbánástól akkor sem szabadulsz.
Az egyetlen medál ami még mindig a melleden virít is csak a balszerencsédé.
 
A sötétségben amitől a földre rogyok
gyermekkorom árnyai vibrálnak.
Apám mondta mindig,
'A mennyek kapuja még a rosszaknak is nyitva áll.'
 
Ezek szerint isten gonosz. Még a legbutább gyerek is tudja, hogy ez így van.
Sikíthatsz, sírhatsz, imádkozhatsz ahogy csak akarsz.
Igazolja a világ amibe születtél.
Talán igaz, az embernek fel kellene adnia amint esélye van rá.
Én már feladtam. Én már azután feladtam, hogy a világra jöttem.
 
Csak egy lyukat ások. Egyet az embernek aki valaha a barátom volt.
Csak egy lyukat ások. Egyet a barátomnak aki már nem mozog.
A lámpás fényében az árnyékom egy szörnyeteg alakját ölti.
Csak egy újabb nap mint bármely ezen a nyomorult úton.
 
Egy lyukat ások. Egy fegyverrel a hátam mögött.
Csak egy lyukat ások. Lyukat ások magamnak.
Milyen szánalmas élet volt ez, nevetséges.
Annyira idegesít, miért pont én? Egy erőnél ami olyan erős, hogy úgy tűnik,
ezt az életet darabokra tépi,
Én egy lyukat ások. Egy lyukat ások.
Egy lyukat ások. Egy lyukat ások.
 
Rossz ember vagyok mindenképp, ez kölyök korom óta eldőlt.
Még ha sírsz, kiabálsz vagy imádkozol, nem választhatod meg hova szüless.
Talán ilyen az élet, minél hamarabb feladod annál jobb,
Vagy csak egy bolond leszel.
 
Egy makacs ember leszel.
 

Nighthawk's Star

Beetles and many other insects
They kill me every night
And that unique-only-one me
This time kills the Hawk
Such a painful act
I've already stopped eating insects
I starved until I died
No, before that
The Hawk has to kill me
No, even before
I have to face the faraway sky
And go to its boundaries
 

Molding Our Futures

Versions: #3
From as far back as I can remember, I’d always hated myself. But somehow, I’d all but forgotten.
I wonder why. I bet it was the moment that I first met you.
Whoever the person in front of me was, I would think they were hiding something.
I was never very good at smiling, yet the time I spent wearing a smile kept increasing.
 
I’m not afraid of all the time passing by. I’m sure tomorrow will be wonderful. That’s what this song is about.
 
And I will say, “Thank you so much. Good-bye for now. I’m home.”
I hope that we can stay like this, so comfortably, forever and ever.
 
Ever since I was born I’ve been running away, from loving others and being loved in return.
Dealing with people is so intimidating. That goes double for when my heart’s put on display.
Of course, I’ve known the truth all along, the truth that I’m the one who’s in the wrong.
I can’t say for sure just how well it’ll go, but if nothing else I can give it an honest try.
 
I know I’ve hurt many people. I gave up on them before they even had a chance. Now’s the time to make amends.
 
And I will say, “Thank you so much. Good-bye for now. I’m home.”
I hope that we can stay like this, so comfortably, believing in each other.
 
If only I could rewrite everything I’ve ever done until now.
If only I could toss all of my failures into the trash where they belong.
And because of how I am, if all you you do is tell me that you’ve fallen in love with me,
That’s enough. That’s enough. That’s far, far more than enough.
I can stick out my chest, and with a loud voice, finally say I’m proud to be me.
Please tell me, tell me that it’s okay for me to come back whenever I want.
I’m finally willing to be myself with all of my heart.
And all for you, to do the same for the one who never stopped believing in me.
 
And I will say, “Thank you so much. Good-bye for now. I’m home.”
I hope that we can stay like this, so comfortably, even far into the future.
 

The City, Baked in Moonlight

Through the curtains the moonlight comes pouring
So now to this letter my pen begins flowing
Should now be the signal to the end of my life
This note will be pinned to the wall with that knife
 
The various reasons behind various things
On this journey that traces my whole history
Detailed in this regrettable itinerary
This pen looks to me no different than a blade
 
My wild imagination imposes itself upon my feelings
To somebody’s heart these bullets are connecting
In this city the sky up above is slowly burning
Bust my gut at the city I always thought laughed at me
 
Thus began the days that I spent trying to flee
Only to be cornered with nowhere behind me
I stood there waving around my freedom like a weapon
Only for it to spin back around and cut my head off
 
Shut in their head, eyes frozen lead
Hands held and red, my life it mends
Journey ahead, when will it end
A dream in bed, over once said
 
So burn this world. Burn it all dead
Burn it all dead. Burn it all dead.
Rain in droplets. On feet they fled.
On feet they fled. On feet they fled.
 

If I sing to The Sky

Piercing through falsehood to see the blue sky, eternity's in flight!
If I sing to the sky, not even regrets stand a chance
It's inevitable. The future we got with our strength.
Keep up the fight.
 
Seeing a mirage, I've paddled through a tear river. Much has passed.
Goodbye, I've got to move forward
It doesn't matter what I lose
I'll use my unforgettable humiliation and frustration
And I'll decorate my heart
 
Piercing through falsehood to see the blue sky, eternity's in flight!
If I sing to the sky, not even regrets stand a chance
It's inevitable. The future was too bright
To be abandoned.
 
Our dreams can't be grasped without hurting someone
I'm ready to lose my ideals, it's a signal
If I laugh, laugh too, it's all a joke. Follow me!
 
Your voice that day, the things you said and couldn't say
If I sing to the sky, I'll throw my regrets away
It's inevitable. Throw away what you've been carrying.
Keep up the fight!
 
Suffering became a sudden rain
To keep up the walk will only hurt your feet and leave them in a muddy mess
Swimming in rain clouds
On an isolated sky
Escape the darkness by which you were captured
What I've grasped is long gone
Even though, only with this warmth they've left
It's worth living this miserable life
Beyond this turbid and cloudy sky
Only a ray of sunlight pierces through
By that time, rain was getting heavier and more frequent
 
Piercing through falsehood to see the blue sky, eternity's in flight!
If I sing to the sky
What you've screamt that day, the things that were said, and the ones you couldn't say
If I sing to the sky, regrets stay by your side
It's inevitable. We've lost many things we've finished.
Keep up the fight
It's limited. What remains of our future
Keep up the fight
 

Nameless One

Loneliness of spending a night alone, though I can make it an excuse, the words I use to hurt you just sound empty, nevertheless
When you have a heart with a hole, and muddy water is poured in through it, you’ve got to spit it all out, even if it’s so painful
 
When you’re out of luck, you can’t get anything right
When you think nothing will work, even success can fail
Coming in through the curtains, the morning sun rushes me
It’s time to leave now, oh well I guess I might as well
 
Nameless me and nameless you, it’s us who can never be somebody
Totally burned out and drifted to this town, we have just passed each other
Though it happened too quickly to call it an encounter
Can you please give a name to a damaged way of life like this?
 
Even if someone spoke badly about you, it’s alright, because your way of life cannot be labeled good or bad
Standing at the crossroads of life, you can be torn between choices but the choice to say that it’s wrong is the worst kind of all.
 
When you’re out of luck, it’s easy to lay the blame on others
But you blame it all on yourself because you’re just too kind
Standing on a platform, you’re even suppressing a sigh
And making yourself suffocate, that is just very you
 
Nameless me and nameless you, it’s us who can never be somebody
Totally burned out and drifted to this town, we have just passed each other
Though it was not special enough to call it a destiny
We are going to give a name, to a damaged way of life like that
 
Shedding a secret tear, the frustration of hiding it, the sadness destined to remain nameless, author unknown
It soars up by the wind blowing through buildings and piles in a corner of an alley. Maybe we can forget about it as if it never existed
Our nameless sadness ought to be celebrated now
Our nameless sadness is waiting to be found by you
 
Nameless me and nameless you, it’s us who can never be somebody
Totally burned out and drifted to this town, we have just passed each other
Though it was too trivial to call it inevitable
Now is the time to call each other’s name, the name of this damaged way of life
Nameless one