That guy points at me
So can I thrust the point of my knife through him?
I don't get it at all

Succeed it, the torn off "me" is how much actually "me," I wonder?
Is this cut off skin breathing?
I inhale this scattered fog of thought
And the cut up wreckage still continues to breathe...

They've decided so since ancient times
Psychos can just go die
I don't get it at all

My spat-out words, all of them seem cheap looking
I just want to know of an even more real sensation
In ruined apartment 102, I'm knocked over
And my scraped mouth tastes of iron

In a new world, in a new world, in a new world, "Let's meet in a new world.."
My head's been bugged
The future I'd grasped, that future, that future, that future
Seemed maddening, yet beautiful

Surely, before we even realize it, we'll be accepted
Will the thousands of lights be blown out?
If even those ethics of succession and joining together is lost
Will you be able to, this simply, share a kiss with savage tribe?

It's lonely, it's painful...
Terribly warped, please look at this me!
I face towards the furthest ends, and begin to walk