It can not be a minus
If it's pushed away by a plus
I do not want to [bad word] you
Neither you are Alise Glass.

As chairs are made to be sat
People are born to be sad.

Tear yourself
From the stratpsphere's embrace
It's not enough to think as wide
As it is needed to be right.
Kill your pride
But don't leave corpse inside
Because its [bad word] body
Will intoxicate your little spirit
With discharges that are in fact
Glory's ejected posterities.

I am the one who controles you
When you loosing your self-control.
The volunteers have formed a queue
So it's an honor after all.

Have you seen their faces when their time is over?

As I said
As chairs are made to be sat
People are born to be sad.

It can not be a minus
If it's pushed away by a plus
I do not want to [bad word] you
Neither you are Alise Glass.

I don't want to [bad word] you...
I... don't... want...

Your face now looks like
Your time is over.
Your time is over.
Your time is over.