amazarashi – ヒガシズム【higashizumu】『5th anniversary live 3D edition』 [ライブ] LIVE (English lyrics + PT)


Ueno, Akihabara, and Tokyo press against each other, demanding us to qualify for living. Escape from dystopia. Struggle for existence. No attachment to the life we’ve put off living. A raven’s cry. A maiden’s smile. A 12m² apartament packed with sexual defiencency. All mankind is antisocial, sacrilegious, the apex of immorality. Our existence is never guaranteed. ”Put yourself above all else” becomes sound reasoning. I bet you just want to say, ”Ugh, shut up already!” That’s the debt of a society that worships vulgarity. Scorning others. Spared, since we only pretend to be evil. But the trampled wildflowers have already spread their seeds. A single subway line, like a spider’s thread. A spider web where not a soul gathers. In the emptiness of the distance between mankind and the stars at night, the crimson glow of the evening sun, shining as though to fill it, is so beautiful. Humanism. Racism. The sun goes down. It goes down again today. Like an embodiment of our numbered days, the sun sets betdoween our quarrels. Eye color. Skin color. Hair color. Look at each other! We cloak ourselves with a rationale for why we live as the people we are: Our existence. Existence. Existence. Our existence. Existence. Existence. Nothing but our mutual hatred. Nothing but hot-blooded pacifism. We set our ablaze in our devotion to freedom, human action is buried beneath its rubble. The line comes to an end. Abandoned by god. Do we keep going or turn back? We’re not taken over by them, but our buildings and our regrets loom behind us like gravestones. Counting down the years, mouths, and hours – eventually, our lives drive us into a corner. Humanism. Racism. The sun goes down. It goes down again today. For aeons, the sun sets as an embodiment of the smallest unit of death. Eager to judge. Eager to cry. Eager to die. Eager to expose. We’ve chosen the rationale for why we live as the people we are: Our existence. Existence. Existence. Our existence. Existence. Existence. Sandals on an autumn beach. Last year’s querosene in the stove. I don’t know when they’ll come to an end, but I know today certainly will. Uncertain whether we’ll be able to smile tomorrow, but we nevertheless keep promising we will. We’ll meet again in an unclear future. Tomorrow, probably, we’ll definitely meet again. Before the evening sun, all of us are made equal. Crime and punishment are seeped in red. This is our faith in the evening sun: Sunset-ism All things will disappear. So fragile, our numbered days will crumble away. This ir our faith in the evening sun: Sunset-ism Humanism. Racism. The sun goes down. It goes down again today. As though good and evil mean nothing to it, today – even today – the sun goes down. The red of the evening sun. The red of certain death. The red of lies. The red of spilt blood. We harbor within us the rationale for why we live as the people we are: Our existence. Existence. Existence. Our existence. Existence. Existence. Our existence. Existence. Existence. Our existence. Existence. Existence.




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