Shiina Ringo

"Hey, wouldn't you rather retire in a nameless, far away town, and live quietly?
I'm so sick of these sort of days, come and take me away"

I escape, but I still miss that white peach, in a dimension that's like sand, called consciousness
Where has the heat escaped to? I'm shivering

As I was, I lazily entrusted my last bit of inexperience
The temperature that knows it can't go back, and the color of fear of an unending night
The naivety of my determination stagnated on the boundary line
The waves that hit the cliffs that I'd forgotten about a long time ago, won't pull away any of the regret that
I have for their color

I'm tired of waiting, my frozen scent is concrete; in a dimension that's like sand, called consciousness
Where has the cold gone that was tired of waiting? I'm shivering

As I am, the white of the white out pen immitated my love
I frantically patch things up, the color of fear on my peeled off bare skin
The thinness in the emotions of having continued to be a bystander
Looking up to a thunderstorm that I've long ago mourned, the cruel color of the clouds won't cry for me
My last bit of inexperience

The temperature that knows it can't go back, and the color of fear of an unending night
The naivety of my determination stagnated on the boundary line
The waves that hit the cliffs that I'd forgotten about a long time ago, won't pull away any of the regret that
I have for their color