Glory’s all dried and sprawled out on the highway, broken without a drop of blood to show for it. Look at the miserable wretch. It’s just like the agony of this despicable body. Put it in a song and no one wants to listen. Haven’t made a single dollar on it either. The sunset paints the sky on the road home. By the side, a stranger covered in thick soot. “If I don’t know someone, then I don’t care.” “And I won’t do anything I can’t be bothered to.” Such is the way they treat those they’ve cast out. What a splendid nonconformist you are. The zeal inherent in all that one persists in becomes an element of social disharmony. All that’s given in return for a genuine life: The truth that you have no place where you belong. Nowhere to go. Innocence. Innocence. If you look at me now, you’ll find me in a locked room. I’m making a bomb all by myself. A bomb that represents our own frailty. Cracking at the seams. Innocence. Innocence. It’s not what you think. Come on, cheer up. I’m just resisting. That is to say, this is the only indulgence left to us. Once there was a girl, nicest in the world, crying with her breath caught in the back of her throat. Heard about it through the town’s grapevine. No doubt that’s the most absurd thing about this world. There are so many things to worry about here. Just have to ignore the others and keep yourself safe. We’re always looking for something to defend ourselves, while praying that it doesn’t have to be a knife. My chest bursts open, everything’s spilling out. I fasten my heart in place with cellophane tape. I wonder if it’ll ever come undone. That lone fear lodged deep within this heart, I keep on living. To those of us who’ve been wrong so often, this is the one thing we’re right to cry over. All that’s given in return for a spotless life: The truth that you will end up hurting another. Nowhere to go. Innocence. Innocence. If you look at me now, you’ll find me in a locked room. I’m making a bomb all by myself. A bomb that represents our own frailty. Cracking at the seams. Innocence. Innocence. It’s not what you think. Come on, cheer up. I’m just resisting. That is to say, this is the only indulgence left to us. We, who cannot be forgiven, strive for a means to find forgiveness. We, who are so easily injured, strive for a means to protect ourselves. I will use my voice. What will you use? I will use my voice. What will you use? Nowhere to go. Innocence. Innocence. Stop your crying, it’s time to stand up again. You, who can’t see the bottom, with your weapon, smash on through with your nihilism. Cracking at the seams. Innocence. Innocence. Shake off the fear nipping at your heals. For you I will sing. That is to say, a bomb that represents my own identity.
