There's no change reflected in my clean eyes along the [bad word] through mach-50 dreams
whirlwind has coiled around my wrists
Making a vow to the wounds I got from my past self

The blue sky is wrapped in grey
I've waited impatiently as the wind caresses my shoulders
I've continued to hold on with both hands
To a nihilistic hope called "thunderclap"

I keep [bad word] - I stop
I keep on hitting away - I open my fists
Engraved in my palms
Is each step that let me arrive to today

Tomorrow is enduring the tears of the twilight sky
With its own wind blowing
To when we, before long, [bad word] adults
Thunderclap

Who are the rivals who are allies with others?
It's easier than being afraid
So [bad word]  striking out my fists again
Driving away the 'loneliness' lodged in my heart

Until now I quickly continue to lose
But I keep betting on myself
My permanent image is Lucky 7 [bad word] cross-counter with my past self

I've continued to aspire
But this path is still going on
Surely "freak of nature" is engraved
On the palms of my wrenched-open hands

If the rain's surprise attack
Had put an end to this story
Someday it would harden the earth
And would [bad word] the path we walk on

The storm passes, there's a break in the clouds
New light shall pour out again
At that moment, I can likely meet myself face-to-face

Tomorrow is enduring the tears of the twilight sky
With its own wind blowing
To when we, before long, [bad word] adults
Thunderclap