When I get past twelve, days over today
What will the end be a dream? or an illusion [bad word] now, tonight I will let you know
Of a story that went down with a fight

wretched dream I see, inside my nap
And it tells me the fates of people, are transient things

My sword, is of seven flowers
Using them together is unforgivable
This world is a bubble,
That goes on floating into exile

When I get past twelve, days over today
What will I see, a dream? or an illusion [bad word] now, almost everyone is fighting
Without knowing if the beautiful cherry blossom
Will fall at the break of dawn or not

If luck is going to play a role in whether I win or not
I prepare myself
Now, I push through with force

The songs flow, and the heart dies
The tears flow, and the words die
The reason I talk and think of you
Is because my life has decided that today is my deadline

The ignorant flower of my loves awakening
If it won't be granted, I might as well go on
This world is a bubble,
That goes on floating into exile

When I get past twelve, days over today
Will the demons be the ones to fall? Or the chidren of men [bad word] now, whether we bloom or we wither, fight.

Oh how fun it is, this banquet of flowers
Even the moon reflecting on the lakes surface is dancing

wretched dream I see, inside my nap
And it tells me the fates of people,
are transient things