delusionalism

The scenery that isn't like that
The thousand names that aren't like that
Beginning to become memories
I don't know what to do

There's no point in touching
It's okay to have a single thought
There's no point in matching
Chase after regrets

Hate, laugh, pick up
Lose to ideals
It can't be helped
Anyway

I'm not interested
Of course
Is it okay to ride along?

After the red seat
Go somewhere
Something's wrong