Summer, whereabouts unknown.
Our day, dried up by the heat of the sun,
I was hanging my head in the shade of a laundromat with a plastic bottle in my hand.

Summer, whereabouts unknown.
Our sadness as we ran through Route 4 at breakneck speed was...
I slipped and fell over in the heat haze, which resembled the fluctuations of passion.
It was abandoned in a corner of a junkyard.

Summer, whereabouts unknown.
Our summer, which has disappeared for the past few years,
Leaning on the emergency stairs of an abandoned building, smoking a cigarette.
"Summer is almost here," he said.