In the afternoon, the sun shines in to
the corner of your room, on the SOFA
that you’d carried with you over the sea.
I have come here, where my beloved you is,
and this is the first time that I’m sitting here.
It’s been half a year today since we had met.

You, who likes to be in your solitude,
and I, who can’t get along with people;
Isn’t it strange, how in no time at all
we have practically melted into each-other?

We had fallen in love tirelessly,
Repeating joys and sorrows without learning a thing.

This is; it will be the be-ginning of my very last love song…
Or so I pray it will be.
As we draw closer now and – cuddle up on this single sofa.
Look, this long, long story of us to-
-gether feels like it’s gotten off to a good start, right?
The sounds of noise really ech-oes so very com-for-tab-ly thr-ough-out this room…

The same warmth in the palms of our joined hands, it fills the void in us;
It causes a tightness in my chest when I feel most satisfied.

What can I, who will someday fall surely
do for you, who will someday disappear?
What is there that we can do?
And what can we leave behind?
And what is there we can keep feeling?

If feelings soaked in sorrow exist,
and must eventually flow away someday with all else,
then joy must exist there, too,
and maybe that will become something that flows away, too.

It has stopped the time, the LAST LOVE SONG…
It keeps on flowing, the LAST LOVE SONG…
It goes round and round, an OLD PLAYER…