The story of
wanting to become one at midnight when you can't become one.
Notice this roundabout expression;
our irony.
You stay hush
just to hear the sound of insects.
I like those brief moments of boredom.
At any rate we should tell each other right away,
and regain my mind's composure.
My complaint is, what we have now is everything.
But you did have some serious thoughts about how we should go on, right?
When it became twisted,
it became serious,
but is that a proof of liking?
It's because you're the one who misunderstood it;
an explosive irony.
Your sleeping face seems lovely.
Let me admire your meekness...
We huddled together
and it was all thanks to those many things we got.
Everytime you say something nasty,
even if you fall ill or cry,
be on the mind of a philosopher
and engrave the things a little bit.
But whether you like it or not, I enjoy taking care of you.
I don't keep any secrets.
But we had to be mysterious, right?
Is it contradictory? Would you like to stimulate it?
An explosive irony.
The parts I hate about myself are those you say you like.
Is it a trick? I want to believe, but I'm scared.
When it became twisted,
it became serious,
but is that a proof of liking?
It's because you're the one who misunderstood it;
An explosive irony.
I don't keep any secrets.
But we had to be mysterious, right?
Is it contradictory? Would you like to stimulate it?
An explosive irony.
I hope you love me the same I love you.
Until the day we believe...