Melancholy scatters in the wind and casts a shadow where it gathers.
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Our footsteps incessantly remind us of our impermanence,
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And I get so lost when I peer into the depth of your eyes.
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We used to have hopes, right? About what lies ahead?
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The reason we joke and laugh is that the road we travel is so dark,
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And I guess it's our job to turn on the lights.
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I'm all too familiar with pretending to say goodbye,
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But I still broke into tears as I waved farewell.
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This deep red sadness of ours
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Gets darker, and darker, and then becomes night.
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Even if it's inevitable that tomorrow will come around,
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I didn't ever say that I wanted to live for it.
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Even though I'm better off quitting, I still keep on having dreams
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Of the future. Of the future. And it's all your fault.
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[Full Version Continues:]
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All the things we need to accomplish are hanging from the crescent moon.
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Even wandering the roads at night, your figure radiates reassurance.
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It takes time to trust - especially when it's trusting another person.
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But if we're on the same road, there's no reason to stay distant either.
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When all's said and done, if I'm going to share something,
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Then I'll need someone to share it with, and I'll need myself too.
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I'm all too familiar with pretending to say goodbye,
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But I still broke into tears as I waved farewell.
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This deep red sadness of ours
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Gets darker, and darker, and then becomes night.
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If love was there from the very beginning,
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We never checked to be sure.
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Destiny takes us along to meet the most unexpected people,
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And they leave a lasting impression in the depths of our hearts.
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If there's hardship, we can bear it. If there's pain, we can share it.
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But I couldn't shoulder your burdens all the way up to your fated destination.
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Farewells are always hard, no matter how many times I've done them,
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So we're only pretending to part ways. This is just a goodbye game.
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It's a game where I trick myself by saying "I'm sure we'll meet again."
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("I'm sure we'll meet again.")
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I'm all too familiar with pretending to say goodbye,
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But I still broke into tears as I waved farewell.
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These deep red lies of ours
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They dampen, and dampen, and then morning arrives.
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I guess the fact that we've grown apart
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means that we were united at one point.
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If we called it "giving up", then I'd feel guilty doing it.
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But it's fate. It's fate. That's what you called it.
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