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lirik lagu 病名は愛だった (the disease called love) – neru

j-panese

余命数ヶ月ばかりの恋に　点滴で扶養する患者達
被害者の甘い期待を弔い　悔悟の機会を躊躇うドクター
所以など行方知らず　未知の病巣に臥す患者達
発熱が死因　然れば早期に　躊躇すべきだったと知る放火犯

この心に穴が空いたくらいなのに　たったそれだけの違いなのに
貴方の背中に滲んでく涙痕が　枯れそうもないのはどうしてなの

病名は愛だった

今はもはや持ち腐れの恋に　些事な延命を乞う患者達
加害者の荒い治療に耐えたい　伴侶たる者はと覚るペイシェント
赤い糸を固結び　故に首を絞め合う患者達
呼吸が出来ない　然れど解けない　本旨に反す麻酔に縋っている

ただ心の溝をそっと覆いたくて　たったそれだけの違いなのに
どのガーゼを充てたとしても代えられない　貴方の温もりを待っている

病名は愛だった

美しい嘘に騙されて　会に合わぬ花に成り果てて
緩やかに迫る死期ですら　フィナーレのように見違える
浅ましい夢に化かされて　不例な病に祟られて
息も絶え絶えな恋心　その死に目を綴った

「病名は愛だった」

rōmaji

yomei suu kagetsu bakari no koi ni
tenteki de fuyou suru kanjatachi
higaisha no amai kitai o wazurai
kaigo no kikai o tamerau dokutaa
yuen nado yukue shirazu
michi no byousou ni fusu kanjatachi
hatsunetsu ga shiin sareba souki ni
chuucho subeki datta to shiru houkahan

kono kokoro ni ana ga aita kurai na no ni
tatta sore dake no chigai na no ni
anata no senaka ni nijindeku ruikon ga
karesou mo nai no wa doush-te na no

byoumei wa ai datta

ima wa mohaya mochigusare no koi ni
saji na enmei o kou kanjatachi
kagaisha no arai chiryou ni taetai
hanryotaru mono wa to satoru peishento
akai ito o kata musubi
yue ni kubi o shimeau kanjatachi
kokyuu ga dekinai saredo hodokenai
honshi ni kaesu masui ni sugatte iru

tada kokoro no mizo o sotto ooi takute
tatta sore dake no chigai na no ni
dono gaaze o ateta tosh-te mo kaerarenai
anata no nuk-mori o matte iru

byoumei wa ai datta

utsukushii uso ni damasarete
e ni awanu hana ni narihatete
yuruyaka ni semaru shiki de sura
finaare no you ni michigaeru
asamashii yume ni bakasarete
furei na yamai ni tatararete
iki mo taedae na koigokoro
sono shinime o tsuzutta

“byoumei wa ai datta”

english translation
the patients with only a few months to live
are supported by the iv of love;
the victim’s sweet hopes are funerals
and the doctor’s hesitant in showing their repentance
the patients do not know how to live yet
and lie in their beds because of an unknown illness;
“a fever was the cause of the death”–
an indecisive arsonist who should have noticed it in early stages

my heart is pierced with a hole
but even though that should be the only difference
why do the blurred tear marks on your back
look like as if they aren’t going to dry?

this disease is called “love”

the patients in possession of love
begging to have their small lives prolonged
are companions who want to endure
the rough treatment of the perpetrators for those who remember
the patients are strangled together
with a red string of fate in a flat knot
making it hard to breathe, so it can’t be undone
forcing them to depend on the anesthesia

i just want to conceal the gap in my heart
but even though that should be the only difference
i just can’t replace it with any old gauze
i’m dependent on your warmth

this disease is called “love”

deceived by a beautiful lie
it becomes a flower not suitable to meet with
i even mistook this slow-approaching death
for a finale
bewitched by a sordid dream
this sick habit torments me
feeling faint and breathless from my love
i’m binded by the moment of death

“the name of the disease was love”

- neru

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