A wind that blows through the nape, growing colder every second.
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The dragonflies' wingbeats, the scent of osmanthus.
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At dusk on a day like this, I want to think of someone who is lonely.
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Just saying, the sky is so clear that I become honest.
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If this were a novel, around what page would it be?
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It's still a prologue, before I even meet love.
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"I love you"-should I chase after it?
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"Fun"-should I keep believing in it?
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The vermilion-dyed hope took a deep breath.
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Ginkgo-lined avenue, the Earth (star) waiting for winter, cloaked in fallen leaves.
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Long shadows, the taste of softly sweet cocoa.
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At dusk on days like this, I want to gently protect someone.
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Just saying, what I wish for isn't strength; maybe it's because I'm weak.
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If I were to sing, around which line would it be?
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A clumsy melody, searching for words of courage.
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If you're anxious, should you dispel it?
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Tears can be wiped away as many times as you like?
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I reached out toward a meteor shining cobalt blue.
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If this were a novel, around what page would it be?
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It's still a prologue, before I even meet love.
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"I love you"-should I chase after it?
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"Fun"-should I keep believing in it?
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The vermilion-dyed hope took a deep breath.
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I breathed in a full, deep breath.
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