In the mahjong parlor, he waits
Severed past running through his hands
Glory comes to the one who waits
In the hallways, they're lying there
In the red blossom of the days
In your arms there is nothing left
My whole life is a mystery
Our aims is a Calvary of our mistakes
In the mahjong parlors, they wait
Severed past weaving through their hands
Glory comes to the ones that wait
All I wanted to see is that I am better
All I want to believe is that I am better
All I want you to see is that I am better