夢の温度計 revised version（Cover）
Japanese indie rock performed as a clearly defined band with live-room cohesion; krautrock motorik repetition and cool nocturnal atmosphere under museum-like restraint; ultra-clean, high-definition clarity; monotone, emotionally detached female vocal fixed center, refined and pitch-stable; drums and bass slightly forward, tightly locked and human-clean; dry, articulate guitars with subtle twinkle emo shimmer in fixed positions; minimal harmonium and faint drones sustaining tension; sparse piano blooming quietly in the chorus; emotion carried by ensemble balance and space, with a restrained final-chorus lift via mid-focused overdriven guitar and minimal vibrato-less solo cello, preserving stillness and exhibition-like calm.
夢の温度計 revised version（Cover）
Japanese indie rock performed as a clearly defined band with live-room cohesion; krautrock motorik repetition and cool nocturnal atmosphere under museum-like restraint; ultra-clean, high-definition clarity; monotone, emotionally detached female vocal fixed center, refined and pitch-stable; drums and bass slightly forward, tightly locked and human-clean; dry, articulate guitars with subtle twinkle emo shimmer in fixed positions; minimal harmonium and faint drones sustaining tension; sparse piano blooming quietly in the chorus; emotion carried by ensemble balance and space, with a restrained final-chorus lift via mid-focused overdriven guitar and minimal vibrato-less solo cello, preserving stillness and exhibition-like calm.
Lyrics
部屋が波打ってる
窓の外に魚の群れ
朝を知らない 時計が笑う
コーヒーの泡で 占う運命
ネオンの森で 耳をなくした
言葉のかわりに 音が咲く
夢の温度を測ってみたら
ちょうど無重力の味
夢の温度計 溶けてしまうよ
現実はゆっくり 酸素を吸う
誰の影も いない部屋で
未来が猫のかたちをしてる
壁の模様が ひそひそ笑う
昨日と今日を 混ぜるスプーン
真夜中のテレビは透明で
砂漠の雨を 流してる
色のない蝶が まぶたをくぐる
目覚めても続く 幻想のリズム
夢の温度計 揺れてしまうよ
幻はゆっくり 呼吸をする
声も時間も 抜け落ちたまま
世界がまわる 片足で
(ゆら ゆら)
夢が眠ってる
温度はまだ 消えないまま
【English】
(sway… sway…)
The room is rolling like the tide,
And outside the window, silver fish glide.
A clock that’s never seen the dawn just grins,
My fate is written in the coffee’s swirling skin.
In a neon forest, I misplaced my ears,
So flowers of sound replace the words I hear.
I tried to measure the temperature of a dream—
It tasted just like floating free.
The dream thermometer starts to melt away,
While reality breathes in slow bouquets.
In a room untouched by anyone’s shadow,
The future curls up like a quiet cat, mellow.
The patterns on the wall begin to snicker,
A spoon stirs yesterday into today, quicker.
The midnight TV turns to glass and streams
A desert rain, soft as forgotten dreams.
A colorless butterfly slips through my eyes,
And the rhythm of illusion survives.
The dream thermometer trembles in the air,
Phantoms breathing softly everywhere.
With time and voice both slipping through,
The world keeps spinning on one lone shoe.
(sway… sway…)
The dream is still asleep inside,
Its warmth refusing yet to hide.