You see this place as if it were paradise
To fill in the blanks of all your boredom
This could be futile way to try hard
We're still in the process
I found this conversation coming up hundreds of times
It makes me vulnerable
This could be a mortal wound
Should I keep pretending to be a defender?
The porter of secrets tells me where you go
Those feelings throughout all of us never fade out
For me, it's more than enough to see
Repeating the action of breaking and converging
Remembering all the time we spend
We're still in the process
