"The blueness that I wrote in my open notebook
Searched for you as the last bell rang
Clumsy and vague, a tone that can’t be written down
Was locked away in my heart
How shall I put into words
These memories traced by the fingers that touched you?
Inside a dream, my heart is simply touched
Might I even start to forget
The fact that I was born all alone?
There’s something missing in the familiar scenery
I looked up at the night sky and all I saw was the unreliable moonlight
I felt like crying, so I threw away my half-written diary
Will I be able to say the words tomorrow?
A pale butterfly landed softly on my finger
Where will it fly to at this late hour?
Like lights kept alive in this deep darkness
We were each born all alone
We’re actually all the same, aren’t we?
Which words can I use to sing
The memories that I decorated with your sound?
Will the tenderness that I trace with my fingers
Someday turn into someone else’s love?
Inside a dream, my heart is simply touched
Might I even start to forget
The fact that I was born all alone?
We’re all the same"
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