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 fleurs in my hand
So even if I engraved the meaning that I lived in my hand, it will only be known as fleurs of vanity.

the final

One par 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 fleurs in my hand
So even if I engraved the meaning that I lived in my hand, the petals will just scatter as fleurs 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

Let's bloom fleurs of attempted suicide..........