I know the sins that old man has piled up, that Sin of his. I see through the camouflage on the surface, all of it. Yet I can't hate him—I know that Fresh side of him too. But the old man is finished. Let's see it through, to Judge his end.
Bloodsucking To Death, I know his nitpicking too. Into The Confusion, the golden goose scheme built in the mess. Sucking him dry until he withers, no escape. Fight Alone, he carried on alone. I'll keep watching, From My Soul until I fall asleep. But Never... burning like a crimson lotus blooming in hell, the old man departs like a shining wind. Trap Of War, nations, politics, damn you. In the vortex of war set by greed, nameless lives with the same face are swept in. Yes, the old man is just a pawn too. What's left is nothing, Nothing.
That's fine, maybe that's a fitting end for the old man. If we meet again someday, I want to say, "What the hell are you doing?!" Until then, Bye Bye. There were bad times too, but I can't throw it all away. I still like him after all. It's not about reason; only the moon knows. After the dream snapped, no one understands. He laughed and bore even his own sins. I still like him after all. No matter how much time passes, it all comes back in an instant, wrapped in gentle light. Thank you, old man. Thank you, the day it all began.
This time, women who are so small you wonder if they're adults all tremble and convulse. It's the best that these doll-like women react like crazy. Even if they're uncontrollable, please handle with care so you don't break them.