“I got dumped by my girlfriend.” When I saw a psychiatrist for advice about it,
I got sent on my way with a sermon about how you reap what you sow.
Like I’d ever come see this quack again–I know all too well it’s my fault,
But I’m not strong enough to snap back at him. It’s just like a pile of all my self-loathing.

Things like dreams or hopes or the future are a threat to me the way I am now.
Manga, stories, movies, or music with things like that are recyclable garbage.
I used to have dreams; those dreams grumble at me from my bedside,
“You’re no good. You’re useless. Don’t think you’re so special, you piece of trash.”

I don’t have any dreams or expectations for the future. I’m just like a living corpse without any will to go on.
But I have the tiniest shameful thought: I can’t completely throw away my pride at being alive.
In the late hours of the night, I suddenly cry and go back and forth, signs I’m barely hanging in there.
The moon floats with ease in the night sky, and I just pray for the morning to come soon.

When I realized what was happening, I’d been driven to a place where I had no choice but to do something.
I can’t choose a method or means of doing so–I’m mediocre, lacking any talent.
When I try to do anything, I just mess it up and worry, and at some point that started to be fun.
There have been countless times I’ve been laughed at, and every time it happens, I take it too seriously and pick a fight.

No matter how much I sell the remainder of my life for by the hour, I grow irritated at the time I have left.
I’ve been betrayed by time, but if that can put food in my mouth, it’s a bargain.
I don’t have anything to lose–I’ve far more to obtain.
Boy with the eyes of a dead fish, you have my thanks.

I don’t have any dreams or expectations for the future. I’m just like a living corpse without any will to go on.
I want to triumph over those who ridiculed the desperate, talking behind their backs.
…Those aren’t my true feelings. Wanting to be recognized is the reason I sing my trivial songs.
There’s no victory or loss, just a clumsy struggle that will continue until I die.

I’m truly grateful to those who reached out to me.
I should probably hold on just a little longer–my bag is full of thanks to give.
If I neglect the things that I should be doing and the things I should convey, my course comes to an end at that point.
Right now I want to sing, not for someone else or for honor, but for myself.

I don’t have any dreams or expectations for the future. I’m just like a living corpse without any will to go on.
But I’m certain that the light of the sky shines upon my rebellious songs, even if it’s just barely there,
Naturally changing into the strength to live and becoming my excuse for being unable to die.
I wander in the wind–even if I’m told it’s hard to understand, there’s no other path I can take.
I wander in the wind–even if I’m told it’s hard to understand, there’s no other path I can take.
I wander in the wind–even if I’m told it’s hard to understand, there’s no other path I can take.

「彼女に振られたんですよ」 と心療内科の先生に
相談したら 自業自得だと説教されて帰された
二度と来るかこのヤブ医者 悪いのは百も承知だ
って開き直れる程強くない さながら自己嫌悪の吹きだまり

夢とか希望とか未来は 今の僕にとっては脅しだ
その類いの漫画 小説 映画 音楽は資源ゴミ
昔は夢もあるにはあった その夢が枕元でほざく
「おまえじゃ駄目だこの役立たず 特別と思うなゴミ屑」

夢なんて無い 期待してない 無気力のまるで生きてる死体
だけどわずかに 忸怩たる思い 生きてるプライドは捨てきれない
遅い夜中に 不意に泣いたり 行ったり来たりのギリギリのサイン
月が夜空に 余裕で浮かび 早く朝よ来いと願うばかり

やるしかない所にまで 気付けば追いつめられてたんだ
方法や手段は選べない 凡庸な僕 才能不在
挑んではヘマして悩んで いつからかそれが楽しくて
笑われたのは数限りなく その度ムキになる天の邪鬼

時給幾ら余命切り売り 残された時間に苛立ち
時に裏切られたりしたよ でもそれが糧になりゃ儲け物
失うものなんて何も無い 手にする方が多いくらい
死んだ魚の眼の少年 僕はお前に感謝するぜ

夢なんて無い 期待してない 無気力のまるで生きてる死体
必死な奴に 後ろ指差し 嘲笑った奴を見返したい
ってのは建前 認められたい が目的のしがない唄うたい
勝ちなんてない 負けなんてない 死ぬまで続く無様な戦い

手を差し伸べてくれた人に ホントに感謝してるんだよ
もう少し取って置くべきだろう 鞄一杯のありがとう
やるべき事伝えるべき事 怠けりゃそこで途絶える航路
他人ではなく 面目じゃなく 自分の為に今は歌いたい

夢なんて無い 期待してない 無気力のまるで生きてる死体
だけど確かに 抗う歌に わずかながら空の光は射し
生きる力に 自ずと変わり 死に切れぬ僕の弁明と成り
風に流離い 理解し難い と言われても他に道など無い
風に流離い 理解し難い と言われても他に道など無い