Hello, I'm gogotea.
Yesterday, my previous composition entered the VOCALOID Hall of Fame on Niconico (exceeded 100,000 views).
Thank you all very much.
It's getting close to Christmas.
I'll be making songs and playing Pokémon as always.
■Vocals/Otomachi Una
■Music, Lyrics/gogotea
/ gogotea_nicogt
mylist/31898303
■Art/I borrowed am's illustration.
piapro.jp/harunegi
/ planetstam
■Karaoke version/piapro.jp/gogotea_nicogt
【Lyrics】
Thinking to myself, “I hope that tomorrow never comes,”
every night I am engulfed by a cloud of silence and emptiness.
Alongside a guitar with three broken strings and a pen, with hands growing numb from the cold,
the light from a dim bulb is my only source of warmth.
I heard that the underclassman I used to hang out with
has built a house and had a kid.
In this six tatami mat room with a tombstone and a terrible odor,
my future is tripped up by the rotting corpse that is my unsold music.
We are life’s flunkees,
getting better and better at living each day with nothing but regret.
Will I die soon? The camellias on the eaves out front are going to fall before long, too.
This song I composed without sparing so much as a minute for anything else
probably isn’t worth any more than idle consideration. Is that all it’s good for right now?
The stars at night were irritating.
Surely I thought that way because I had been sullied too much.
“I’m too scared to sleep,” I told my companion.
But they made such a disbelieving expression, I turned to the alcohol instead.
The band member that sings in front of the traffic circle near the train station on my way home
has clients and cash aplenty, but they’re so brilliant, there’s nothing for it.
The looks I get from the people that loudly exclaim as they pass by
while I wait on the platform for the last train are super painful.
Isn’t that right? Nothing’s changed at all.
No one extends a hand to rotten people who failed to achieve their dreams.
It was the worst possible life.
This anima of hanging yourself at the gallows of your own efforts-
just stop it already. Though its wings were ugly, the nightjar struggled.
This gloomy song can’t save so much as a single person.
There’s no hope for the mediocre us.
Living like this is so painful-
I thought that way because I was overestimating myself.
Being pushed around by extraordinary people, my head down in the mud, on the verge of tears,
I’ve become accustomed to even self-deprecation and self harm.
But someday, I want to be the one to look down on them.
It’s too late to put up a good front.
Howl underneath the whitening surface of the full moon.
Words full of hope won’t come forth anymore, but
that in itself becomes a song.
Throughout life,
you may have regrets, but they’re proof that you’re alive.
Don’t die yet. Don’t push yourself too hard trying to do what’s right.
But we have to face them.
There’s no room to choose anymore.
Now, sing, all you life’s flunkees!
It’s a howling well-suited to us kicked puppies.
Hey, somebody, if you can hear this, please respond!
If this gloomy song might save someone,
then for that alone, I want to live.
“The stars at night are so beautiful”
For we who can’t sing, they might not be so bad.
#VOCALOID #OtomachiUna #gogotea