I suddenly remembered all my days up ’til now,
Riding within an airplane in flight, amidst a downpour.

Given a needle and thread, I wait for the sign to begin,
Then try to pass the thread through the needle’s hole — days like this process is on repeat. An ace.

I suddenly drew what my days will look like from here on out,
But it strayed in all directions, fluctuating violently — I feel like I’m gonna throw up!

Crying, clinging… dropping, picking up… everyone handles things differently.
Shaking hands… clouding vision… why do I only have 8 fingers?

Without killing anyone— without bumping shoulders with anyone—
Without bullying or being bullied— trying to keep from getting hit by cars.

Sickness, fires, accidents, earthquakes — while surviving each day by a hair’s breadth,
Still kind enough to never be deceived, but wise enough to not be hated for it.

We’re told to live, but IS THAT SO?!

Amid a delicate story that’s somewhat ambiguous and seemingly clear-cut…
I take meticulous care to not loose my footing… to not let it escape me…

Even if I tell you this, I expect it won’t mean a thing…
But one unexpected day, you’re gonna get pulled in just like me.

The smell of sadness sticks in my nostrils; I got up from my seat to try to wash it away.
I head for the toilet, but there’s already a line of other sufferers — a whole line of sobbers.

Those who give up and shut their eyes tight… those who fall to their knees and ask forgiveness…
Those who take a needle to their arms and carve the name of the one they love…

And those who watch with sidelong glances, cheering and clapping over their exploits.
It seems only those who are able to land, by successfully threading their needle, are able to keep living tomorrow.

With intention, but with modesty—
So we’re told to live, but IS THAT SO?!

Amid a sloppy story that seems to take place in the heavens, but is like a painting of Hell,
I could just leave one out, or run on through — quite the ultimate choice.

An individual who looks exactly like me sneaks over by the emergency exit.
Deliberately, slowly— he turns the handle— the restraints release— a chute opens up—
But turning away from all that— he can fall if he pleases— just let him do it— more importantly, I gotta thread my needle!

Amid a somewhat ambiguous, seemingly clear-cut, delicate story…
So as to not loose my footing… not let it escape me… I take the utmost care.

A seemingly comedic, tragic fate; cook it up any way you like!
You can stand on your tiptoes, or get angry— just aim for the highest marks!

今までの日々　ふと思いだしたんだ
土砂降りの雨の中　飛ぶ飛行機の中で

針と糸ひとつ手渡され　「はじめ」の合図で
針の穴に糸を通す　これを繰り返すような　Days　Ace

これからの日々　ふと描きだしたんだ
上下左右　乱高下　もう吐きそうなんだ

泣いてすがったり　落ちてひろったり　皆様　様々
震える手　霞みゆく視界　僕の指なぜ八本？

ひとっこひっとり殺さずに　誰とも肩ぶつからずに
いじめずいじめられずに　車にはねられぬように

病、火事、事故、地震　日々紙一重でかわしながら
騙されぬほどに優しく　嫌みにならぬほどに賢く

生きなさいとさ　はい、そうかい

曖昧なようで　明快なような　繊細なストーリーを
踏み外さぬように　逃さぬように　細心の注意を

あんたに言ってもなんだかさっぱりだとは思いますが
あんたもバッタリ或る日　そっくり　引きずり込まれるさぁ

悲しみの匂いが鼻について　洗い流そうと席を立った
トイレに向かうが　そこは悲嘆者の列　嗚咽の列

諦め目を瞑る者　膝をつき許し請う者
腕に針あてて　愛しき人の名を彫り入れる者

彼らの様　横目に　祝杯と声あげる者
着陸までに糸通した　者だけが明日を生きられると

わざとらしくも　しおらしく
生きなさいとさ　はい、そうかい

天上のようで　地獄絵図のような　ぞんざいなストーリーを
一抜けるもよし　駆け抜けるもよし　そう究極のチョイスを

僕のそっくりが一人こっそり　非常口の前へ
おもむろにゆっくり　ハンドルを切り　制止を振り切り　シュートが開き
そんなのほっとけ　落ちたきゃ勝手に　させとけそれよりも　針に糸を

曖昧なようで　明快なような　繊細なストーリーを
踏み外さぬように　逃さぬように　細心の注意を

喜劇的なようで　悲劇的な運命　お好きに調理を
つま先立つもよし　いきり立つもよし　行け　最高到達点を