Even if I check my mail
several times a day,
your folder is still empty.
It’s my own foolishness
to think you’d give your heart to me.

Even when I burn with longing,
thinking of you,
you’re probably having fun with someone else.
It’s my own foolishness
to think you’d choose me.

Can I just know one thing?
Did you ever, even once,
think of me
as someone you truly liked?

From the start, I couldn’t see through your heart,
couldn’t say what I really wanted,
couldn’t even try ten times.
It’s my fault,
it’s all my own foolishness.

Even knowing I couldn’t love,
I couldn’t help but like you more.
Waiting endlessly
is my fault,
it’s all my own foolishness.

Since we last saw each other, did you ever
think of me even once?
I can’t even ask you that,
it’s all my own foolishness.

Can I just know one thing?
In those brief moments we were together,
did you ever, even once,
think of them as good memories?

From the start, I couldn’t see through your heart,
couldn’t say what I really wanted,
couldn’t even try ten times.
It’s my fault,
it’s all my own foolishness.

Even knowing I couldn’t love,
I couldn’t help but like you more.
Waiting endlessly
is my fault,
it’s all my own foolishness.