I felt I wanted it so badly, my heart could reach out from my throat-
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But it wasn't me, it was someone else.
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I used to think that, "Hopes and dreams... what more could one need?" Where has that version of myself gone now?
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Held at bay by an imitation, I lost my guiding light.
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Upon the border of life and death, snowdrops bloom in force.
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If due to some kind of mistake, I'm ever crushed to pieces,
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At the very least, place those flowers around my empty shell.
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Is this really all there is? Seems about right, don't you think?
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I don't even care if everyone thinks I've given up.
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This isn't like me... it's not like me at all - there's just no value in something anyone can make.
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[Full Version Continues:]
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Tracing the scar left behind by that wound, I call out in vain,
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For something sleeping deep inside me to awaken-
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But if I really did have something like that,
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Much like a chameleon, it would have long ago been dyed by this world.
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Am I living as if I were dead? Or am I dead, only seemingly alive?
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But those snowdrops at the border of life and death are so beautiful!
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If by some great mistake, I somehow became competent,
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I hope someone will put a bullet through my forehead.
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Isn't this enough? It's enough already, right?
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I have no interest in a life behind the glass.
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No matter whether it's right or wrong, I can't be separated from myself.
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Enough already! Enough already! If I could allow myself some consolation, things would at least get easier;
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It's not like I'm wrong, or right for that matter- It's because I don't know the answer that I can't ever allow it!
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If I'll just end up quitting anyway, I won't even bother to try.
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So amidst those snowdrops, dye me white once more.
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