In the middle of a slope that continues toward tomorrow
The adults passing by murmur to themselves
"I understand love, and dreams and ideals too,
But the reality in front of us isn't that sweet," they say.
Even as we stumble and roll
I don't want to forget the passion full of scabs
Hear one of our "can't grow up" bravado
We're not running or hiding, so those who want to laugh, laugh
At least don't pluck the shoots of our unreliable freedom
Then isn't it enough to fulfill the duty of watering it?
[Full Version Continues]
The failures we've repeated over and over
And the ideas that have clashed greatly
Our standards are very uncertain
Somehow our stride is wider than yesterday
While reaching up and being knocked about
I peel off a few scabs, but no answer comes
Hear one of our selfish wishes to become adults
Even when we sleep or wake, slow the time that binds us just a little
At least don't snip the fruit of our feeble freedom
Until that red moment ripens, should we worry, right?
Hear one of our "can't grow up" bravado
We're not running or hiding, so let those who want to laugh, laugh
At least don't pluck the shoots of our unreliable freedom
Then isn't it enough to fulfill the duty of watering it?