When time goes by, who will remember them.
Who is right and who is wrong is no longer a concept.
The cheers of the winners, the fate of the losers. The coward's low eyebrows.
Or sad, or angry, or hesitant, or confused.
A game that failed from the beginning.
Who is singing, who is keeping faith?
Only the witnesses can understand that all this is just the longest and most tragic dream I have ever made.
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