What if the story that I heard on that sleepless night is all just an impossible fantasy?
Rather than knowing eternity, I seek pleasure and lament over the present.
Maybe I do that to run away from the shadows that have settled deep inside my heart.
Even so, if I’ll be able to come to love who I am…
The sun, broken in half, brings the morning with it and gradually stimulates my senses that have grown used to the dark.
The misplaced contents of my brain are a story whose scenario has disappeared, and I’ll just leave things that way.
Freely, freely, I’ll take the helm and soar up to greater heights.
The voice of that child who’s crying on the other side of the chosen answer won’t be heard.
Emotion isn’t something you can measure with someone’s rusted ruler, after all.
For the sake of myself and no one else, I’ll hide my wounds so that I can smile at today.
With my slightly strained voice, I’ll sing out the fantasy. The things that are here right now are everything to me.
With the coming of sun, broken in half, the day begins again. What comes next in the story lies right here in my hands,
Because just being loved isn’t the ending – it’s not enough just be satisfied.
Freely, freely, I’ll take the helm; soaring further out, I’ll become a bird.
Freely, freely, I’ll take the helm; soaring higher up, I’ll become a star.