When the forget-me-nots are in bloom, I see the color of the petals, and I remember,
A dream of rising high into the sky with that girl with the quiet eyes.
The rocket boys who draw contrails all over the sunny sky
And the girls who watch and laugh, holding unbelievably strong affection within their hearts.
Time turns and turns, and all those selves of ours will disappear
And find sadness in days so hectic that it’s all directionless.
“We’ll be here again someday, okay?”
Your voice of goodbye echoes on for all time, forever on,
And without pushing at our backs, it connected us.
Things that are unclear, things that are simple – everyone gives them color.
I want to take these smoldering feelings that never form into words and hug them close.
Things that are unclear, things that are simple – we all have them, we’re all the same.
Our song is making the flowers in this heart of mine bloom.
Dashed out alone in the afternoon,
Passing through the city with no one to be found.
Take one out from the circle game,
And you become a memory.
Continue the circle game.
I’ll pray and you’ll sing.
Let’s realize a mirage that doesn’t disappear,
So pray, and I’ll sing.
Let’s continue the circle game.
We jump up and come to know weight.
We’ll take the changing joy and sorrow,
Pray here and try making it into a song.
“We finally got to meet again.”
I hear the nostalgic sound of your voice.
Next thing I know, we’re floating up into space,
Chased away by time.
Things that are unclear, things that are simple, we’re all like flower petals,
Just floating and turning in the sky – don’t look back.
The forget-me-nots, carried by the wind, pass us by.
Our song, far ahead, is making flowers of that color bloom.