"In Tokyo" The Olympics are coming up, and the streets of Shibuya are now changing. Clad in papier-mache vigor, an office worker hit his shoulder on me. Many nightclubs opened, only to go out of business. Their names changed, and then they were got back. A band, now split up, was singing about me, even though they weren't my friends. How does Tokyo look to the rock band? How does it look to a homeless person? And, to a woman in stiletto heels? This city looks false to everyone, true to everyone. Let's make new answers here, not from an equation someone else made, but from your first and last Tokyo's, from your own Tokyo's. I can remember the day I waved to you at the bus terminal. Saying I didn't like to see you off, I turned my back and ran away to Center Street. In this bar, advertised by a red lantern, I have drunken with many men, but now, God, I have the only man to love. How does Tokyo look to a rock band? How does it look to a homeless person? And, to a woman in stiletto heels? This city looks false to everyone, true to everyone. Let's make new answers here, not from an equation someone else made, but from your first and last Tokyo's, from your own... A man who has quit his job, a comedian who has forgotten how to laugh, a father who comes to help his daughter move, and a temporary worker who wants to get married. They see the same city, but they must have found it in different ways. They have found their first and last Tokyo's, their own Tokyo's, in Tokyo, in Tokyo...