In this bewitching room with whose sunniness is bad,
I listen and wait for the meaningless melody.
There is a feeling of wrongness after all,
It is sometimes pleasant.
No word is to the ears,
In the eyes, the light of colors of thousands.
Can't I and you become the same?
I may not be able to be you .
"The lonely sky" .
As for being, only, only that .
Even if I tries to look up at
the sky with the melody which was hurted.
As for alighting,
Only "that view" .
Can't I and you become the same?
I may not be able to be you .
The songstress made with the nail is crying.
Still I look back faintly.
Then ,I felt anger about the flap
which it seemed only to be meaning-less.
