The melancholy I shoulder has taken on a proper form, with an ironic code of conduct.
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The beats of work, dreams, friends, and love, etched with endings and beginnings,
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Lose their color with every repetition
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Maybe they aren't forever anymore.
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Let's go with a decent rhythm.
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No matter how hard it is
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There isn't a single thing that's a waste
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Let's keep pushing tomorrow as well
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Let's live the days we love
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They say that when your maximum effort isn't rewarded, that's your own fault.
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Isn't the ratio of harsh scolding and encouragement-carrot and stick-slightly biased?
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Inside it's a bother, but outwardly you've already masked yourself with an A-plus rating.
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All that buildup of stress
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Yeah, maybe I'll invite that guy tonight.
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After spending time in contentment, it's always the case that
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Loneliness calls out to passion.
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Beyond sleepless nights
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So that I can reflect on myself
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The morning that greeted me somehow
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Looks a little different from yesterday.
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Even if we choose separate paths, they'll connect again someday
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The loop of farewells and meetings
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In a different form, surely we will
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Toward the tomorrow each of us should aim for
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No matter how painful it is
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There isn't a single thing that's useless
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Tomorrow too let's keep going
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Let's live the days we love
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