One of the best lyrics by Ashin

English Translation:

I sit before the bed looking out the window, spending the day in memories; life is a resplendent illusion, time is a thief, stealing everything away

When I was seven I captured a cicada, thinking I could capture summer; when I was seventeen I kissed her face thinking we would last forever

Is there really that kind of forever, forever unchanging, the beauty we’ve once embraced never shattered

Make rapidly passing time unable to run wild on my face, make the separation of life and death distant, so no one can hear them

I sit before the bed turning my head to see who is asleep on the pillow, that ancient face appears to be me, tightly shut eyes

Those who once loved me, and who I loved deeply, are all gathered by my side, I can’t take with me those regrets and sentiments, they all transform into that one last tear

Is there really that kind of tear that can wash away remorse, transform into a rainstorm falling on a street I can’t return to

Give me one more chance to rewrite the story, to offer the apology I've owed him all my life

Is there really that kind of world, where the sky never goes dark, the stars and sun and everything listens to my commands

The moon doesn’t wax and wane, spring isn’t far away, twigs hold tightly onto their leaves, can anyone hear me

Beside my ears, before my eyes, this life is lived over again, I came from the darkness and return to the darkness, a lifetime, a flash, between heaven an earth, next time who will I be

Is there really that kind of rose, that never fades away, forever proud and beautiful, forever uncompromising

Why does life turn out to be like a scrap of paper, not like a flower petal that was once splendorous

Is there really that kind of bookmark that can stop on that day, at that most innocent, smiling face and that most beautiful year

A backpack filled with cake and soda, eyes devoid of suspicion and wrong-doing, let us be outlaws

Is there really that kind of poem that doesn’t end, youth forever halted in our own time

Boys and girls with guitars and dancing shoes, laughing and forgetting life’s suffering, just knowing its sweetness

Is there really that kind of tomorrow, that lets me live all over again, to once again experience the yesterday I squandered

Whether surviving or living, I won’t waste a moment, won’t let this story be so filled with regrets

Can anyone hear me, I don’t want to say goodbye

I sit before the bed watching my fingertips already like smoke