Leaving my right footprint is the last resistance that I have.
I cut off my hair so I will not feel regret pulling at it from behind.
However, thanks to that I felt relieved and I could see though the bullshit.
This shit world left behind my friends, my time, my places and my feelings of the past, and they can’t come back.
And it scoffs at me as if saying "Living the fast life is foolish".
The clamor tangled in my grown-out hair.
The anxiety heaped in my black lungs.
In the bygone days, I leave my everything in the room that I locked.
戻らぬ 人 時 場所 想い