I still love you. It's a bright memory. I stood at the station where we parted ways that day. Ah, I tried chewing on the blue dead leaves. The city is changing colors, but the person I want to meet doesn't come. Ah, I think I'm a little too mature to confess my love to my mother. However, I feel like we all become women. Goodbye is a sign of the day.* At dusk when I'm being pushed around by others, ah, you're not the only one there. The city is changing colors, but the people I want to meet don't come. The kindness of people, the warmth of people, ah. You can understand it by passing by

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