吾輩は猫じゃない
Opens with lo-fi indie guitar and minimalist percussion, letting syncopated bass and retro Y2K synths gradually layer in, The chorus explodes with crisp metalcore drums and searing guitars, driving infectious pop hooks, Breakdowns boast deep, grooving rhythms, splashed with vintage effects, all retaining tight, polished indie grit, Male baritone vocals boldly anchor every section, man singer, trap, dynamic melodies
吾輩は猫じゃない
Opens with lo-fi indie guitar and minimalist percussion, letting syncopated bass and retro Y2K synths gradually layer in, The chorus explodes with crisp metalcore drums and searing guitars, driving infectious pop hooks, Breakdowns boast deep, grooving rhythms, splashed with vintage effects, all retaining tight, polished indie grit, Male baritone vocals boldly anchor every section, man singer, trap, dynamic melodies
Lyrics
もし、生まれ変わるなら、
何がいいかな？
もし、生まれ変われるなら、
アリは、嫌だ
猫は？ 野良猫も可愛い、
イケメンに飼われるのあり
ヒトは、ヒトに
生まれ変わる、
らしいが
誰も死んだ、後のことは
わからない、
君は死んだことあるのかい？
吾輩は、猫じゃない
吾輩の、ファザー、頭硬い
吾輩の、後輩は愚痴多い
吾輩の、夢は、何？
猫じゃらしで喜ばない
昼下がり
耳鳴り、立ちくらみ、
上り坂、嫌い、
大嫌い、
頭ん中、回る、回る
息が、上がる、上がる
もう少し、あと少し、
ほら見えた、頂き
吾輩は猫じゃない
吾輩の、マザー、考えすぎ
吾輩の、趣味はない
吾輩は、好物、焼き魚
身が、ホロホロの、白身魚
寝起きは布団から出れない！
二度寝は食後のデザートさ カーテン開けたら、あさひが顔出す
わかっているけど起きない
がしかし、but
布団、蹴り飛ばし、
夢から、帰還
so 今から、準備だ
吾輩は、猫じゃない
吾輩は、犬じゃない
吾輩は、アリでもない、
吾輩は、吾輩のままでいい
吾輩は、吾輩のままでいい
lyric© 2025 空白人間
If I were to be reborn,
what should I become?
If I could start over,
I know one thing—
I don’t want to be an ant.
A cat, maybe? Even a stray wouldn’t be bad.
Being adopted by a handsome guy—yeah, I’d take that.
People say humans
come back as humans.
But no one really knows
what happens after we die.
Have you ever died before?
I’m not a cat.
My father—too stubborn for his own good.
My junior—complains nonstop.
My dream?
No idea.
A cat toy won’t cheer me up.
Afternoon sunlight.
Ringing ears, lightheaded steps.
Uphill roads—I hate them,
truly hate them.
My head spins, spins,
my breath climbs, climbs.
Just a little more—almost there.
Look, the top is in sight.
I’m not a cat.
My mother—thinks too much.
I don’t really have hobbies.
But I love grilled fish—
soft, flaky white meat.
When I wake up, I can’t get out of bed.
Going back to sleep is like dessert after a meal.
I open the curtains and the sun peeks in.
I know I should get up, but I don’t.
And yet—but—
I kick off the blankets,
return from whatever dream I was in.
So, time to get ready.
I’m not a cat.
Not a dog.
Not an ant.
I’m fine being me.
I’m fine just staying… me.