girl in akihabara / shinjuku nichome

the first night of Japan I got kissed on the cheek by a girl

and then i saw a girl who looked exactly like you

same hair, same height, eerily similar clothing

i stared in awe of her for most the night

you were in the arms of another girl

when she turned around, it wasn't you, it wasn't

i don't mean to break too many laws here already

sticker bombing and stealth photography never bothered me

but stepping out dressed up like this feels wrong

even though all the dolled up boys and girls line the streets of akihabara

it's so unreal, they're so unreal handing out flyers for maid cafes 

these streets are crowded, and i don't stand out

the median of mediocrity means nothing

when there's some image of beauty every corner

where the girls look girly and the boys look like girls

and the lights look bright, the colours of the rainbow flood the skyline

every step of this place feels like a waking dream

girl in akihabara is in despair, in wonder, in a dream

she's in despair

she can't believe it

stare long enough at the streets for it to start looking like home

stare long enough at them for it to start feeling the same

you don't have to lie to me, you don't

you don't have to think about me, you won't 

I stare at the yamamote line

how easy would it for me to dive under, I wonder, I wonder

wow, this public transport is insane, I think to myself

as a man in uniform approaching behind me announcing the closure of the station

and I pace quickly towards the station, narrowly catching the final train of the night

drunk salarymen on the yamamote line coming home from late night drinking 

I get to the hotel past curfew

and I sleep with my arms scratched up and bleeding