The sun fell
The white-haired gentleman wielded a knife today, too
Wafted alcohol
————building 13
The bandages are strange voices, it was time for plosive sounds in the distance
Without need of watch, ugliness
————building 13
The first person hung, the second one was flying
The people now are already too liquefied
Despair is hope dancing vigorously below the moonlight
Cloudless karma, consequently a drunken savage
Ahh, two clean sweeps, a deranged depiction
A maddened performer with an unnecessary penchant for blood makeup, a drunken savage
Even so, the fortuneteller says,
“Murdering without hesitation.
Dancing, slicing, Eden.
They will always be connected.”
“The spilled blood, too…”
Dripping on the right, turning to pus on the left
The chopped things bloom maddeningly in crimson
Despair is hope dancing vigorously below the moonlight
Cloudless karma, consequently a drunken savage
Ahh, two clean sweeps, a deranged depiction
A maddened performer with an unnecessary penchant for blood makeup, a drunken savage
Ah—— the connection to feckless fury will cause the building to soon close
————building 13
Even so, the fortuneteller says,
“Murdering without hesitation.
Dancing, slicing, Eden.
They will always be connected.”
“The spilled blood turned into a lotus.
From that day, it turned into a lotus.
Until that day, vulgarity is one’s own pleasure.”
Lunatics, puppets, fiends
—-
Translated by bloom
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