The end was a night like this"See you again
someday." said us, the lying two
It’s not that I want to see you again now, but I do think of you.
The night sky is a part of the universe, a metaphorically unreachable region..
What was rising was the waning moon. What was rising
was me beginning to cry.
Because I fear of being
hurt, I won’t do anything to hurt
you.
Not to mention our self-centered argument.
It’s absurd to attack you.
Perhaps, the two of us were prone to having a plastic relationship.
Still, I love you and
I feel like there is a hole in my heart.
I keep opening and closing the mail screen of my phone and occasionally confirm the past with my fingertips.
When is that message from? Words of love, my memory of them has expired.
If the
same moon, the same thing, was to illuminate the
depths of my heart…
A second, a light second, is farther than returning to you.
Don’t disappear, don’t disappear.If I were to ascend into the light that looks like an exit, then I feel as if I would be able to see you again, moonlight----.
I have all intention of trying to understand the fact that reality can change.
Feelings like this don't end, and in spite of everything it doesn’t seem that there will be one.
As I sort through my received messages folder, there’s a cancellation request for deleting leftovers.
“You’ll loose these messages, but would you like to erase anyway?”
The stars shine too brightly, and I feel overwhelmed by the shear number of them.
Just in case, I chant your name like a spell, but even so why must I begin to forget?
Even though I think of you no matter when or where I am,
we’ve been separated.
Anybody and everybody have left, and only the magic remains.
Don’t turn away, don’t look away, I’m caught in the maze of a dream.
And when I come to a stop, I feel as if I have called out for you, moonlight----.
The wind, the town, the
rain, the flower, the time… they whistle, sway, fall, whirl, and stop.
The dream, the color, the fever, the passion…
I can’t stand the fact that they all end, fade, cool.
I can’t
stand, can’t
stand, can’t
stand it…
If the same moon, the same one, was to shed light on the void in my chest…
A second, a light second, is farther than returning to you.
Don’t disappear, don’t disappear.If I were to ascend into the light that looks like an exit, then I feel as if I would be able to see you again, moonlight----.
Endlessly repeating night after night, the moon sheds its light on the void in my chest…
I search for your voice, your
shadow hidden in the
dark.
Relying on a promise I can’t keep…
I chase after you.
And now the two of us are connected by the moonglight----.
moonlight---. - Plastic Tree
