This Tokyo Is a Little Strange

“Sunny doll, sunny doll, please make tomorrow sunny!”

In the pitch-black night, a weeping child kept swinging the smiling sunny doll.

“If you can make the sky clear up like it does in my dreams, I'll give you a golden bell.”

From the depths of the darkness, a woman's hoarse voice seemed to praise the dark.

“Sunny doll, sunny doll, please make tomorrow sunny.”

Beneath the tattered butcher's apron hid a father's desperate sobs.

“If you grant my wish, I'll give you lots of fine wine to drink.”

On the land where the faceless ones now lay buried, a wooden sign reading “Silent Village” swayed precariously at the village entrance.

“Shh, don't make a sound.”

A ridiculous clown stood in front of a ruined house, softly chanting the final nursery rhyme.

“Sunny doll, sunny doll, please make tomorrow sunny!”

“If it doesn't clear up, I'll cry, and I'll cut your head off.”