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