More songs by Yuuri
Description
Like a dried bouquet lying between the pages of a book, this song smells of memories that should have faded long ago, but still retain their colour. It conveys weariness from endless conversations that never became real dialogue, and the familiar ‘I'm sorry’ uttered more for oneself than for the other person. Here, resentment is mixed with warmth: habits are annoying, but the voice, the face, even the awkwardness - still, it doesn't become completely foreign.
It sounds like evening light in an empty room where no one is waiting for an answer anymore. It's like trying to convince yourself that the flowers will wilt, that the pain will pass, that the name will cease to echo inside - but for now, it still whispers like a scent that hasn't faded from an old scarf. The irony is that even when you let go, you still hold on.
Lyrics and translation
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