Only the blue button on the collar burst flying off from my constricting shirt. I don't need that sort of thing, I've already stopped looking for it. It's just lonely, but I'm fine.
Somehow I no longer need direct mail forwarded to me. Please mister postman, I can no longer understand mail addressed to the true me. I can't even understand bills.
Very soon, the airship I filled up with my sighs will surely be flying. I'm lying in wait to shoot it down.
Farewell, my sweet pain, farewell. Farewell, bye bye bye.
Don't worry about me, though I'm just a little worn out. Hey, little sister, no matter who it's from, even one word, I'll no longer be made the adresee. If time runs out, it will become morning.
The tall tree standing on the other side of this window I've become accustomed to became thin from the season's wind, but it hasn't died yet.
Farewell, my sweet pain, farewell. Farewell, bye bye bye.
Farewell, my sweet pain, farewell. Simply everything becomes dear to me. Farewell, bye bye bye.