red, but not green.

If One Day I'm sunk into the teeth of fate,

It'll be crimson responsibility that'll flow out;

If sacrifice, my might, and children's kites

Can be symbolized into a day

I'd like it be Christmas;

For it'll be the enjoyment of my restlessness

⏤The ending point before a new beginning.

May it be fate that leads me

To the me of that One Day

⏤To the me who can finally see

The green in Christmas.