The silhouette ahead has warped to the extent that it recedes as soon as my hand reaches out to it
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In the silence left behind by the shower, my chilled heart is disturbed every time I breathe
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Straining my eyes is still not enough; I can no longer comprehend with my five senses
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And I agonize over the very moment when my feeble complaints are replaced
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Before I can exceed even the limits of what I pictured about the world that exceeded my imagination
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I have to face expectations that have grown to the point of hopelessness
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Yes, no matter how much I scream about the dreams I constantly depicted and the feelings I lost
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They can never reach out to anybody
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The hazy, towering skyscraper opposite of the afterimage
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Is riddled with scars; but I still go ahead from its foot
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I want to prove it, about the impulse released by cutting through the sky
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The expectations I bear are already weighing on me mercilessly
+
There is no turning back even if I have regrets; by now even such a seemingly debilitating pain
+
Can be transformed completely into strength
+
The answer was always in these hands
+
The silhouette ahead has warped to the extent that it recedes as soon as my hand reaches out to it
+
In the silence left behind by the shower, my chilled heart is disturbed every time I breathe
+
The contrast that became zero remains incomprehensible even as it vanished
+
Reflected in my eyes are completely chilled skins and innumerable halations
+
Before I can exceed even the limits of what I pictured about the world that exceeded my imagination
+
I have to face expectations that have grown to the point of hopelessness
+
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Yes, no matter how much I scream about the dreams I constantly depicted and the feelings I lost
+
They can never reach out to anybody
+
The hazy, towering skyscraper opposite of the afterimage is riddled with scars
+
But I still Go a head from its foot
+
It is only but a short way until that scene
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Yet one repeatedly goes back and forth like it's Just a game
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Facing a desperate situation with no escape before one's barely blinking eyes
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Can the Black Blast Lady still blow away?
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Treat each other as strangers, since there's only vile words lining up anyway
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Come, let's resonate and go BANG BANG BANG
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Straining my eyes is still not enough; I can no longer comprehend with my five senses
+
And I agonize over the very moment when my feeble complaints are replaced
+
So too, are my tears, which are continuously created with the assembled fragments from my hollowed-out inner heart
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Yes, no matter how much I scream about the proof regarding that voice I lost
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They can never reach out to anybody
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If the wounds of my worn out feelings, caused by scratches, bites and cuts, are reproduced
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They will be the answer
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Even if one cannot see, one can still follow the direction of that voice
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Even if one is hesitating, one can still make a way
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Take my hand, as you can still walk, right? I am willing to put up my life for my dearest
+
Yes, no matter how much I scream about the proof regarding that voice I lost
+
They can never reach out to anybody
+
If the wounds of my worn out feelings, caused by scratches, bites and cuts, are reproduced
+
I want to prove it, about the impulse released by cutting through the sky
+
The expectations I bear are already weighing on me mercilessly
+
There is no turning back even if I have regrets; by now even such a seemingly debilitating pain
+
Can be transformed completely into strength
+
The answer was always in these hands
+