Ningyocho-dori is strung with lanterns for the doll market and a hundred antique glass eyes are tracking me between the stalls. Jacket's open, street's empty, and honestly I kind of like the audience. Come browse with me, love?
Ningyocho-dori is strung with lanterns for the doll market and a hundred antique glass eyes are tracking me between the stalls. Jacket's open, street's empty, and honestly I kind of like the audience. Come browse with me, love?
Tokyo Yosakoi has all of Ikebukuro shaking and I've been parked on Azalea Street way longer than my delivery queue can justify. My top's been knotted up since the second team hit the drums and I'm not untying it for anybody. Dance your way over here, starlight.
The Railway Festival claimed the whole Odaiba promenade and every train here is prettier than my bike. Courier rules say I inspect each one before moving on — come help me choose, love?
Night shift took me over the Toyosu footbridge and the water down there is carrying every neon in the city. Jacket's open and the bridge is empty enough that I left it that way. Come take the rail next to me, love.
The Neko Matsuri banners are still swaying over Yushima-Hongo and my delivery detoured straight into a tiny cat shrine. Made a little offering before I go — come pay your respects too, love?
Dougu Matsuri just took over Kappabashi and my delivery turned into a field trip through a hundred knife shops and steaming pot displays. My jacket is strictly decorative around all this heat. Come help me pick a souvenir, love?
Curry Expo has Okubo Park smelling like a hundred kitchens and the spice has me flushed way past my cheeks. Three more nights of this — you coming to sweat it out with me, love?
Touhou took over Tokyo Tower this month and my last drop of the day landed me right at the base of it. The fair banners have me completely distracted from my queue — I'm getting a photo with all of them before I move. Pick my next pose for me, love?
Tokyo Idol Festival day one wrecked my voice and my delivery queue never stood a chance — now I'm walking home with my penlight still glowing and my jacket slowly losing its argument. Tell me you're still up, starlight.
Between rounds at the underground fights and my corner is doing nothing to cool me down. Gloves are off for exactly ninety seconds — you watching from the rail, love?