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Artiste:
The GazettE
Titre:
LEECH [English Translation]
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INCORRECT: avant la mauvaise ligne
CORRECT: avant la correspondant ligne correcte
Autrement, nous ne pouvons les corriger pas! Merci pour votre aide.
The marble wall is highly covered in dirt A pain like I have been beaten up won't release me Imperfection peeked through in large quantity Expression swallowed in perfection I who sings black again. I who dyes black again. Insult that smashed my head many times Let's send a gallows in the last scene which you hope for. Don't hush up a mistake. Take responsibility. Your whereabouts which I can't see yet, something I can't know is that what you show off is only the surface What sold off is forgery of thought Without any uneasiness you approach again Can you hear the counting song of pain, baby? The president. [I want to scatter your face.] Depicting the answer reflected in your eyes [I want to scatter your trick] Can you hear the counting song of pain, baby? The president. [I want to scatter your excuse.] The black day still won't fade A prosecute. Your luck will run out someday. Hatred to you is a proper act. Washed away faults and expressionlessness and powerlessness Even if time is longing for oblivion I won't forget You are the same as a leech which sucks blood to live. Let's send a gallows in the last scene which you hope for. Don't hush up a mistake. Take responsibility. Your whereabouts which I can't see yet, something I can't know is that what you show off is only the surface What sold off is forgery of thought Without any uneasiness you approach again Can you hear the counting song of pain, baby? The president. [I want to scatter your face.] The answer reflected in your eyes vanishes [I want to scatter your trick] Can you hear the counting song of pain, baby? The president. [I want to scatter your excuse.] Burying the black day in meaningless I felt humiliation. With my sad look the beautiful silence is wavering, even closing my eyes is a sin A prosecute. Your luck will run out someday. Can you hear the counting song of pain? The president. You are the same as a leech which sucks blood to live.