If I had expertly caught that “second fly” that day,
I wonder if the regrets I’m still clinging to now would fade away.
After 15 years, there’s still a part of me that I can’t throw away,
But life goes on, life goes on…
The evening news is reporting that someone, somewhere has died.
The newscaster is fighting back tears – see you again tomorrow!
If we were to die, and no one did a feature on it,
I’m sure the world would go on as if nothing had even happened.
You see, your tears at the beginning of the 21st…
…are a blessed rain:
Our new generation.
If you had silently swallowed the depths of your heart that day,
Would you have made it through without hurting anyone in the process?
Even if we’re bruised and battered, we never stop trying to fall in love,
As life goes on, life goes on…
The early morning news is reporting that a plane has crashed into a building.
The newscaster averts his eyes; there were days like that too.
Using love and justice as weapons, we steal from one another,
And the world goes on as if nothing has even happened.
You see, your tears at the beginning of the 21st…
…are a blessed rain:
Our new generation.
A dream from which we’ll never awake, and junk commodities:
An idea whose burden we’ve accepted.
A fraudulent story told by an insipid song:
Sing it out! Sing it out!
Repetitive days of nothing but consumption:
An idea that ties us all together.
A fraudulent story told by an insipid song:
Sing it out! Sing it out!
We can’t quite find the right words for it –
We can’t even find words that come close.
Nonetheless, we call it “love”;
We call this vague feeling “love”.
No one knows the truth –
I don’t even know everything there is about you.
Nonetheless, we call it “love”;
We call this vague feeling “love”.
Breathing… consuming life…
Can we really say we’re anything more than excreting monkeys?
Your tears…
Say goodbye to the old stone tools!
… are a blessed rain:
Our new generation.
Your tears…
Say goodbye to the old stone tools!
… are a blessed rain:
Our new generation.