Antikythera – Yasashii hari

Kind Needle

Hands that erase pictures layered onto a nameless wall
Dissolve intentions I don’t have and meanings that grow old
If necrosis is unavoidable, naturally I’ll cut it off
If choices can flow easily with the manner you had

Because I cleverly laugh at the function of mass psychology
You don’t look at me, but reached out your hand to me

Light reaches a voice worn out from crying
I stared to get an answer that only grazed the surface
I thought I was too late but you still told me
‘With those hands, those eyes, go choose,’ you said

Summer swayed, in autumn the reaction sinks
The device perplexed by value is almost the same colour as fodder

Because deliberation on the surface doesn’t have a small meaning
It’s good even if my skin rips and warm blood flows out

Petrified, I can erase even hope
Endearing words easily make me silent
I searched for the pieces of an endless puzzle
‘If tomorrow repeats itself it’ll be okay,’ you said

As though nothing at all is pretty
Please exist with an eternal statue of incomplete me

Light reaches a voice worn out from crying
I stared to get an answer that only grazed the surface
Everyone who could see the signs has already disappeared
‘With those eyes, those hands, go seize it,’ you said

The strength of intentions left behind by a cell unit
Pierce you sharply like a needle

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