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Blindfolded, your voice enters the world reflected
In the presence of color, you must be floating blindfolded
I don't understand your identity
What do you mean by sleeping posture?

Even though I woke up, your voice strongly traces my 'now'
I don't understand your identity
Come here, to continue from there
No one can peek at you
I don't understand, your voice just keeps getting farther away

For example, if I die and something survives, does it change shape?
Whose fault is it?
For example, if you're here, could I hear a few more beautiful words?
Whose fault is it? Whose fault

I can still hear it

Now I can hear it