I'm probably the one who has nothing at all.
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You probably have nothing at all, either.
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We, nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing.
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We probably haven't been able to grasp it.
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The night we struggled to find a small light, we stayed by each other.
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This song that sings of and records those days.
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If only one dream could come true
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What would I say I want?
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If I could become someone, even just one person,
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Who would I want to become?
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I kept wanting things that wouldn't reach me anytime soon, and talking about them.
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For some reason I was all fired up.
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The blue air, the path of a gentle breeze.
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The traces of words, the beating of our hearts.
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It felt endlessly beautiful.
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An imperfectly planned ideal.
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Whenever I began to climb the stairs, I jumped down.
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Forcibly back to the starting point.
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Breaths moved in, exhaled.
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The things I believed in, as if they believed in me.
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Even when I realized they weren't tangible.
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I laughed as if at the end of innocence.
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I had become skilled at averting my gaze.
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I'm probably the one who has nothing at all.
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You probably have nothing at all, either.
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We, nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing.
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We probably haven't been able to grasp it.
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The night we struggled to find a small light, we stayed by each other.
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Even those days felt precious.
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That day we decided not to cry.
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We decided we couldn't cry.
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And yet, why, why, why, why, why
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The stars we saw shining so brightly that day are now
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I wonder if somewhere someone is still lighting them up.
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Life isn't just a one-time thing.
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If it's life, how should I live it?
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But even the now, which is only once,
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I wonder whether I'm truly living it.
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No matter how many times I question it, tomorrow arrives and I forget.
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I kept focusing only on what was in front of me.
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White feelings, the light too dazzling.
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Beyond the dream lies the still unseen fourth note.
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I somehow sense a premonition.
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Pretending not to see, I hid my feelings.
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To an embarrassing extent.
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Going about without care for appearances.
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I believed this was right.
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I can't go back, and I don't want to.
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I decided there was nothing there.
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That top star is a hollow fake.
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I had known it for a long time, but I kept moving forward.
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How long is it okay for me to stay here?
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And where should I go from here?
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Why does everyone, everyone, everyone, everyone
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Even if I howl like this
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The truth is stranger than fiction.
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I could even find such irony lovely.
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I'm probably the one who has nothing at all.
+
You probably have nothing at all, either.
+
We, nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing.
+
We probably haven't been able to grasp it.
+
The night we struggled to find a small light, we stayed by each other.
+
Even those days felt beautiful.
+
That day we decided not to cry.
+
We decided we couldn't cry.
+
And yet, why, why, why, why, why
+
The stars we saw shining so brightly that day are now
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I wonder if somewhere someone is still lighting them.
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