A song that enchanted me for perhaps a year, with lyrics worth translating.
Lyrics aligned left, right or center (both) depending on singer. Please credit back here if you repost or use for other purposes.
(Note to self: For lyric formattings, Classic Mode over Blocks.)
Prostitution
A page opened to my youth, baring a single splash of a stain.
With a generous spritz of bleach, now it’s a manual riddled with holes.
Raised on only the simplest of logic, all the more reason how
I noticed plans grinding out of gear, but you were already at my room.
There’s no chance it’ll retain its permanence.
Everyone infers it but puts it out of sight.
Insisting “that’s okay” betrays a ferocity you could smell.
I want the modern lexicon to be the way I tell them–
But how do I do that,
When reforging one’s morals
Still yields no palpable meaning?
The youth I barter–
The youth I steal.
As you peel away this delicate leaf
A tear erupts across its damp, fleshy tones.
You are the victim–
And you become the overlord.
Let us at least wipe away all trace of guilty conscience.
Don’t get too attached to the voice in the answering machine,
That’ll let me fall into you without scratching your worrywart ring.
You ooze such ease, but it doesn’t make you receptive per se.
I’ve lived it, I know: it’s already full of scratches, but let’s add another.
You must already know–
You must have been wishing it.
Hearts who find virtue in the status quo
Get thrown in the slammer. Job well done.
Without a confidante,
days of endurance taper away.
Let me at least
not be a mere bystander.
Not that I could ever be one.
Let’s get out of here as quick as possible.
Waiting for us to clean up our act,
There’s just no time–you know it painfully well, don’t you?
Yes, all too well. But the stilettos you asked me to wear
Have got my legs all tangled and trapped.
You may as well leave me behind.
All our days we laughed together
Come to an end today.
We beat that truth into our heads–
It’s awful how it’s always so focused on endings.
To wish for the day
This will all have been worth it? How brazen.
Between endless compromise and self-repression,
Nothing is gained. Isn’t that so sad.
The youth I barter–
The youth I steal.
Let us not turn these into memories.
Let’s at least
Stay conspirators,
A pair who scattered their youths.
あらゆる 