The expedition road dies.
Even the smile is spilt.
It is necessary
It doesn't think at all.
The hand is shut and eyes are shut additionally.
It has become an idol.
Aiming at you and a warm soil
Even thanks on the death : like doing.
Does not a nostalgic song fall?
I wanted to throw common tears.
We were passed.
That moment is ascertained
It is given up that I become poetry.
Spring that dances you in the sky and threw it away
Ahead of that
What being possible to spell means.
The expedition road dies.
You become like the fragment.
Afterwards
Whether it carved or it flowed backward is not understood.
While suddenly listening to a nostalgic song
It lies in the room where the light was turned off.
Then, in spring
Be only in spring for a long time ..playing...
From that spring to this spring
To the way of the footplate of the extending passage
End ..most memories...
I am called back to hollowness at one time.
The expedition road goes by Shin.
The train goes in Kon between daybreaks.
At last without touching the dream
The spring of the separation came.
It is possible to think of the warmth of the hand.
It is possible to think only of the warmth of the hand.
You become only a hand.
The expedition road dies.
