All of Our Past Future Lives

What happened to the heart
That our mind won’t tell
Is there a version of ourselves
That only exists underneath the surface
Of all the wonders we grew up to deny
Hypnotic-like static and whistling winds
From confining rustles
Our chiming interweaves
It all goes back to the strangers we are
To the sweeping feelings
To the mimicking sounds
Of new forms of happiness awaiting
It doesn’t take much to pretend
That nothing really seems like it was before
When clocks keep their rambling tick tock
Their rambling tick tock
Like our past future lives
All moving in splashes of paints
Moving
Moving

Blindfolded, we’re all scared of something
And when death is not one of them
Existence brightens its views
Existence brightens its views
Existence brightens its views

For every one of our treasons
And their self-subversive goodbyes
For every one of our treasons
And their self-subversive goodbyes


Words: Alex Henry Foster
Translation to Japanese: Momoka Tobari