The shadows of all the people flicker on and off, lit up by the dying street lights
There’s the smell of rubber and moisture in the air. There’s far too much talk to call this silence
Accordingly, my point of view won’t stay fixed; it skips over the stars and moves on to the northeast
Moths gather, but in any case, it’s futile–they burn down in my dreams, and after that, there’s nothing left

A ticket to ride with no destination, the evening scenery at the end of this life
Please take me quickly to the wasteland at the other side of the world

There are dog bones in the summer garden, dates marked on piles of corpses. I’ll trample upon them to head for tomorrow, singing until I spit up blood
With the notes of bronchitis. The cold wind from the northern mountains radiates in all directions, and even the desecration of the flowers that bloom there is allowed

I clicked my tongue at this town–no, it’s the town that did it to me
There’s a system to the myths of the children in the sandbox, and the gods dwell in each grain of sand
I get involved, unable to cut off this sociability. I cross over without reason and spit at them
I close myself off and doubt an afterlife, burning up clumsily, and after that, there’s nothing left

On the dividing line between beasts and men, silver flies swarm around life
Sperm makes a pilgrimage to sacred grounds, too soon to die in snowfall

A love hotel alongside the highway with a chaste twilight. An inadequate dawn, and the end of the world like a stutter
I swallow it down and choke, dew dripping down the curtains. Life burns down now at the galactic winter in the road

It straddled the back of a truck, and the years passed by
It flipped over at an intersection and shed blood
When I saw it through the window, I heard the crackling of life being burned

Speed and friction set off sparks
Speed and friction burn my organs

There’s a steam whistle in my body signaling my departure, and my blood is my escape route. Why is it that whenever I set out on a journey and draw near, I find myself getting farther away?
I shout out with even more irritation with the fractured scenery of today. A sliver of it pierces the ground. There’s an untainted shipwreck in February

Speed and friction burn my organs

切れかけた街灯に照らされて　明滅繰り返す人々の影
ゴムの匂いと空気の湿り気　静寂と呼ぶには、はなはだ多弁
したがって　定まらぬ視点　星を滑って　東北に流転
蛾が群がって　どうせ無駄だって　夢に焼け落ちて　あとは何もねえ

行き先のない乗車券　此岸の終わりの夕景
地球の裏の荒野へ　早く連れてってくれ

夏の庭に犬の骨　死屍累々の日付　それを踏んづけて明日へ　気管支炎の音符で
血を吐くまでは歌え　放射状　北の山背　そこに咲いた花でさえ　冒涜は許されて　

僕は舌打ちをしたこの街へ　いや、舌打ちしたのは街の方で
砂場に子供らの神話体系　その一粒ごと神は宿って
絡まって　切れぬ社会性　みだりに越えて　唾を吐き掛け
我が塞がって　来世疑って　無様に燃えて　あとは何もねえ

獣と人の分岐点　命にたかる銀蠅
精子は霊地の巡礼　死ぬには早い降雪

国道沿いのラブホテル　トワイライト純潔で　言葉足らずの夜明け　吃音的な世の果て
それを飲み込んでは咽せる　結露に滴るカーテン　命が今焼け落ちて　車道に冬の銀河系

トラックの荷台に跨がって　歳月が通り過ぎた
交差点で横転して　血を流していた
窓越しにそれを見ていたら　命がじりじりと焦げる音を聞いた

スピードと摩擦　火花を散らして　
スピードと摩擦　内臓を焦がして

体内に発車の汽笛　血液は逃避の路線　旅立っては近づいて　離れてくのはどうして?
苛立ちは尚叫んで　ひび割れた今日の風景　地表にうがつささくれ　二月は無垢な難破船

スピードと摩擦　内臓を焦がして