I'm not good at piano but, I hope you'll listen,
It's only three chords, though, I hope it reaches you.

There were always, always things I never said to you,
But I'm no good at putting them into words, it's embarassing, so I put it in music-notes.

Even if my throat is torn into shreds, even if I develop a polyp,
For as long as I live, for you, I shout for you.
So, I've decided now. I've decided.