Reality strikes The days pass by Two lines Different seasons Separate stations
[Reality hitting on the rocks]
Curve line erasing the good things of the past 2 drops of water falling on the way to the office | | | | | | Old soundtrack passes over parallel tracks Theater full, broken line
Days pass and pass Birthdays pass, not words Difficult to pretend to be well No words happen
Places I’m not, line closed Places you are not, closed line
Romanticism doesn’t feel the same as maps on our maps 2 parallel drops fall | | The game hits me against the rocks You don’t follow me in a straight line
[Reality catches me]
there are no words there is nothing thick fog
The same lines Now they are parallel Your reality hits