The intention is clear, I stare, with this left hand, unable
To be worded
Every time I bleed, there lies the reason to live... And I
Discover words being so vivid and bright
Even loved ones scatter like petals from flowers in my hand
So even if I engraved the meaning that I lived in my hand, it
Will only be known as flowers of vanity
The Final
One by one it multiplies... Why be a sad bait?
Deep within the hell of my heart... I can't go back
A self-torture loser, not being able to see tomorrow
Suicide is the proof of life
Even loved ones scatter like petals from flowers in my hand
So even if I engraved the meaning that I lived in my hand, it
Will only be known as flowers of vanity
So I can't live
What's lost can't be born again
A song that's not even seeking the proof of living
Let's put an end... The Final
Lets bloom flowers of attempted suicide.
