Adorned with the strings of fate, the home of the dolls
Is a museum filled with beauty, atop the sand within an hourglass

The keys to the showcase
Have long since rusted
Unaware to even the fact
That they have been broken

This time that had been slowly built up, crumbles into nothing but dust
The memories that had been kept within a single grain melt into the sunset, slowly

In the single moment that drawn-up perfection shattered into nothing
The melody that had filled the glass began to overflow

Though no traces of it remain
The nostalgic voice
Resonated through the silence
With all of its feelings on display

In the depths of these glass eyes, lit by the sunset
If there's any radiance left, let's properly convey it to our dream of "forever":
...This is goodbye

Ah... even if all that's left is to crumble to pieces
What's been carved into us isn't a scar
It's the remnants of all the feelings we carried

This time that had been slowly built up, crumbles into nothing but dust
The memories, kept in a single grain, remain in our hearts
Atop the illusionary dunes of sand, within the museum filled with beauty
The overlapping singing voices of the stringless puppets,
Quietly resonate