| Song | The Messenger, Infinite |
| Artist | Rosaline |
| Album | The Vitality Theory |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| This day has a reason, remember it with all your might | |
| Through the dream and waking world, a messenger is infinite | |
| Numbers and digits carved into the foreheads of | |
| Everyone that we know, I am blind to this design | |
| This day has a reason, remember it with all your might | |
| Through the dream and waking world, a messenger is infinite | |
| My eyes are hundreds of millions of miles long | |
| Weaving intricately and urgently | |
| Light is bent to break, for optic’s sake, our fragile memory banks | |
| Until its beauty recreates | |
| I am blind to the design | |
| Light is bent to break, for my optic’s sake, until its beauty recreates |
| This day has a reason, remember it with all your might | |
| Through the dream and waking world, a messenger is infinite | |
| Numbers and digits carved into the foreheads of | |
| Everyone that we know, I am blind to this design | |
| This day has a reason, remember it with all your might | |
| Through the dream and waking world, a messenger is infinite | |
| My eyes are hundreds of millions of miles long | |
| Weaving intricately and urgently | |
| Light is bent to break, for optic' s sake, our fragile memory banks | |
| Until its beauty recreates | |
| I am blind to the design | |
| Light is bent to break, for my optic' s sake, until its beauty recreates |
| This day has a reason, remember it with all your might | |
| Through the dream and waking world, a messenger is infinite | |
| Numbers and digits carved into the foreheads of | |
| Everyone that we know, I am blind to this design | |
| This day has a reason, remember it with all your might | |
| Through the dream and waking world, a messenger is infinite | |
| My eyes are hundreds of millions of miles long | |
| Weaving intricately and urgently | |
| Light is bent to break, for optic' s sake, our fragile memory banks | |
| Until its beauty recreates | |
| I am blind to the design | |
| Light is bent to break, for my optic' s sake, until its beauty recreates |