Close the book, in the middle of reading
The setting sun’s light as your bookmark
Why does being fond of something similar
But different from someone’s normal
Have to be something to fear?

A bundle of spells in your hands
Go back in time
Change blue into orange

The moment when it comes to you
That song that changes the world
Only happens during nighttime

In the middle of weaving, search your
memories
To make up the next page
Sometimes even the wall, the door, the
Corridor,,,

Feels so unfamiliar
But you’re not the only one

The moment when it comes to you
That song that changes the world
Only happens during nighttime

If you’d stay up ‘till dawn
So let’s dance to the song
On a fresh skating rink

Why don’t we break the rules of summer reading?