Bunsho

歌詞

I'd just done the best work to fall into my hands for quite some time: of night oil I'd burned much, made sure both style and content were sublime So I put it forward to the public forum in anticipation of my due acclaim. And meanwhile, by contrast, I'd penned a eulogy, pure workaday, just hack work, just dashed off, packed full of prolix puff and sad cliche.... No-one can really tell when their hand's been played out well and I don't even know how my own story goes or if it's worth a jot. I can't see my stream. What I thought was perfect, what I thought was polished, no-one thought it worth much and they made that clear. What I thought was worthless, merely repetition somehow tugged the heartstrings, brought them all to tears. I can't see my stream. No-one can ever know what of their own's their very best.