When The Weak Go Marching In

At first glance, a beautiful disguise of happiness
The plating has peeled off
At the moment a thin skin peeled off
Something grotesque was buried

Sinking among humans
The day the pitch-black thing explodes
We, who are always afraid of it
Seem to be in the midst of an uncrowned death

A song that sounds like
A mix of voices cursing powerlessness
And voices praying for salvation

The march of saints, advancing
As if swallowing everything
Even forgiving us, the weak
Taking us away
Not destruction, not salvation
The march of saints that rings everything
Hey, please sweep away
Our crushed sorrows

Why won't the seed of our happiness
Sprout at all?
How long should we cry and struggle
In the depths of such dark darkness?

Standing on a pile of misfortunes
The ideal facade is faintly cold
The peaceful days won't return
Our marching band brings madness

From the day we cried out
From the day we knew sorrow
We have been worn out

A song that sounds like
A mix of voices cursing powerlessness
And voices praying for salvation

The march of saints, advancing
As if swallowing everything
Even forgiving us, the weak
Taking us away
Whether paradise or hell
Awaits at the destination
This parade will just keep moving forward
Singing songs of anger and sorrow

Crushing the devil of abuse
Until the trembling heart stops