A 2002 convertible

I wake up in pitch black and feel only chill. Luxury cars speeding like light on the Shuto Expressway accelerate rapidly in the rain, splashing water. Ah, I know where I need to go. I can hear voices. The voices calling me overlap and turn into screams. When the sky turns black, I feel sad. Ah, I can hear them.

[Don't cloud your heart, it means death.]

If I was ever going to have a nightmare, it should have been you. There are so many things I wanted to tell you. Hey, it will be over in an instant, so look closely. I can hear the screams.

[The darkness is not your shadow.
Pure, transparent, beautiful. Look closely, wake up.]

I need you, where are you? All night long I've been thinking that you might change my mind. Ah, I can hear the sirens. I have to go. Give it a try, alcohol or whatever. I can't stop losing myself. I am illuminated by the flashlight that swings around like a crazy firefly. My nose is cold. I begged God that I could start all over again in the forest. [Praying to God is a sign of weakness] A 2002 convertible is driving at high speed. I am staring at the star-like water droplets on the window from the passenger seat. Hey, who is driving? Who is pressing the button to open the roof? I can't see anything.