Utopia

On the front lines of the armed struggle, even in past lives
I was lost
Repeating the same mistakes in history
Changing bit by bit
How about it? Looking down on fame
Selfish correct answers
Grand and irresistible mission

Putting on armor of unforgivable feelings
How many times will the future be wrong?
The wind blowing in my face, I heard
There's a purpose

In the chaotic front lines of past lives
I remained silent
Memories carried like a revolving lantern
Without knowing the whereabouts
How about it? Looking down on fame
Selfish correct answers
Grand and irresistible mission

Putting on armor of unforgivable feelings
How many times will the future be wrong?
The wind blowing in my face, I heard
There's no purpose, I can't bear it

Continuing to search for the utopia of the road
Only feeling that illuminates
The days to be rewritten, your will
I heard it clearly

Towards the future waiting at the end of the road