In a dark winter Tokyo
In the Mahjong parlor he waits
Severed pasts thrumming through his hands
Glory comes to one who waits

In the hallways they're lying there
In the red blossom of the day
In your arms there is nothing left
But we are all on the way

My whole life
Is a mystery
That I can't bear

Our aims is a cavalry
Of our mistakes

I would love to heal you now

In a dark winter Tokyo
In the Mahjong parlors they wait
Severed pasts sweeping through their hands
Glory comes to the ones that wait

In the art of the arm
Red blossons of the days

All I wanted to see
Is that I am better
All I want to believe
Is that I am better
Round and round
All I wanted to see
Is that I am better
Round and round