My Songfeat. Hatsune Miku

Caught early—but failed to cut it out.
An impurity. The one that’s murky
was me.

If only I could wash my organs clean.
My belly’s pitch-black. The fool
was me. Why only now?

So cold, so cold—these fingertips
about to disappear.
What blood must I bleed
to keep touching you?

Clumsy, can’t sustain—still I begged
for “even so, it’s fine.”
The sound I shouldn’t need,
the useless sound of me.

One of the “win conditions” read:
“Stay pure, with no calculation.”
How am I doing?

Feelings unfit for long storage
filled my gut. The fool
was me—just wanting to be loved.

I want to tell you, to tell you—
these ugly, twisted feelings.
What words could I say
so you’d keep touching me?

I throw it away—then pick it back up,
over and over, until now.
No point hiding it:
the dirty sound of me.

I rang it in a trance—
desire big as the universe.
How awful.

So cold, so cold—“even so”
still isn’t enough.
Hey… smile for me.
I only want to keep touching you.

Clumsy, can’t sustain—so I made
“even so” into a song.
I’d rather you didn’t listen—
the sound I don’t need,
the muddied sound of me.