the Gazette-Toguro translation

i really like this song, it's catchy and yes, nice !!
as expected from TheGazette !:p
 it's called Toguro. and you can hear it from youtube, it really a nice songs, indeed.
so, here is the translation but
noted that this translation isnt mine..
i just copy and paste it here.. 




~English Translation~
Round and round, beneath a spinning cloud
Round and round, I dance a spiral
Karakatakatakara katakatakatari
Karakatakatakara katakatakatari
The spiraling sound echoes tonight as well
Round and round, it surrounds me
Round and round, what do you want to play?
Karakatakatakara katakatakatari
Karakatakatakara katakatakatari
The spiraling sound is distorted and swayed, lala
Entangling my hands, I paint a picture
Out of the "distorted spots", which one is "you"?
Seseraserasera, why do you laugh at me?
The songs being counted will not stop crying
I'm the one being made to dance
Always being brought out of control - it hurts
Like my breath getting stuck, it's hard to breathe
There's nothing left of the repeating "ayatori"
It pours out from the lips that lay on top of each other,
Recognizing the breaths that don't match
The night of death's prank, a person whose name isn't even known
The exposed wound, dripping sad affection
Round and round, it surrounds me
Round and round, what do you want to play?
Karakatakatakara katakatakatari
Karakatakatakara katakatakatari
The spiraling sound is distorted and swayed, lala
Entangling my hands, I paint a picture
Out of the "distorted spots", which one is "you"?
Sesera serasera, why do you laugh at me?
The songs being counted will not stop crying
Out of the "distorted spots", which one is "you"?
Out of the "distorted spots", which one is "you"?
Out of the "distorted spots", which one is "you"?
Out of the "distorted spots", which one is "you"?
To lose something again for the sake of something you have
Is fearful, unbearable
I'm the one being made to dance
Always being brought out of control - it hurts
Like my breath getting stuck, it's hard to breathe
There's nothing left of the repeating "ayatori"
It pours out from the lips that lay on top of each other,
Recognizing the breaths that don't match
The night of death's prank, a person whose name isn't even known
The exposed wound, dripping sad affection
It hurts....yes, it's not "you"
It hurts....it's not "you" yet





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