17 years old — it’s a seventeen: days like a lemon bursting open!
Feeling as if you’re really alive… that’s everything!
17 years old — it’s a seventeen: you glisten with your black hair.
Grasping your arm, I feel the spot where you got your BCGs*. Wow wow!
Does it hurt to have your feelings hurt?
Do you wish someone would notice?
White shirts fluttering in the wind are so beautiful,
They make the blue sky seem somewhat sad.
A season that will never return passes us by,
Like we’re climbing the steps of feeling entirely empty.
Where is tomorrow?
17 years old — it’s a seventeen: if it feels you might lose track of yourself,
Launch an SOS, using the phone in your hand!
17 years old — it’s a seventeen: you call to me with your black hair;
I’m forced to learn your ABCs. Wow wow!
C’mon and expose your heart hidden behind those bangs—
‘Cause there’s surely someone who’s taken notice of you!
Have you ever felt like you aren’t really alone?
We don’t need a reason… to call each other by name and smile together!
Let’s meet again tomorrow! Yeah!
17 years old — it’s a seventeen: days like a lemon bursting open!
Feeling as if you’re really alive… that’s everything!
17 years old — it’s a seventeen: you’re so young, with your black hair.
Feeling as if you’re really alive… that’s everything!
Does it hurt to have your feelings hurt?
Do you wish someone would notice?
17 years old — it’s a seventeen… that’s everything!
*TL Note: Refers to the BCG vaccine, primarily used against tuberculosis, which can leave a characteristic grid of scars on the upper arm.