Deep blue darkness sinks, blue-green in the flaming iron basket
The fact is, silver clothing goes on the goddess's figure.
To turn back time the worm-eaten chronology
Wounded memories fleeting from the world's trace
A bead of faint emotion is an illusion among the floating wagon tracks, its experiences overlooked
The noisy wind sways, we wish under the white moon
The god's name of protection expected to be called out
A hand is held out and your spirit becomes high
Your breast's warmth feels tender and everlasting
Embracing the coming thoughts and withering tears
The world is too much of an armful even with both hands, born with certain proof
The lost child embraces the mother's breasts, her face smiling
Before then we robbed, the burden of the shadow disappearing
We hear a grand purpose pass through
We believe in the overflowing strength
We tell of eternity's desire
Divine beasts naming His presence
The noisy wind sways, we wish under the white moon
The god's name of protection expected to be called out
A hand is held out and your spirit becomes high
The sparkling shield becomes a twinkling fang
Deep blue darkness sinks, blue-green in the flaming iron basket
The fact is, silver clothing goes on the goddess's figure.
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