Handbeat Clocktower

Sitting on the clocktower's top, smiling, are you
Are you a demon or my mother?

A moving second hand, a swaying pure spirit
On top of the clocktower, there's a sniper rifle
Advancing on the spiral staircase, echoing death
Carving time and conflict into the heart

Drowning beautifully, hands tainted with sin
Instead of repentance, a sword
Who could the inevitable opponent be?

The girl's portrait my hand drew that day
The hazy memories marked the beginning of madness
The excessive malice unleashed by a lonely woman
Destroyed everything in seven nightmares

But the right path
Hasn't completely disappeared yet
The dramatic story
Is now closing its curtain

I won't hesitate anymore, even in an unavoidable battle
Even if it means pointing the blade at you
Sitting on the clocktower's top, smiling, are you
Are you a demon or my mother?
Someone, someone tell me
What exactly is evil?

Hope is just one, despair to the point of exhaustion
Just an empty heart

There's not much I can do
But I'll hold onto this hand
Praying for the rain to stop
Continuously

More than the sound of the giant clock's hands, someone's laughter echoes
Only a madman is left on the clocktower of death
If someday the time comes and the day to laugh at this suffering arrives
I'll inscribe the truth with this hand

I won't hesitate anymore, even in an unavoidable battle
Even if it means pointing the blade at you
Sitting on the clocktower's top, rotting away, are you
Are you a demon or the person who was my mother