Scar

That ceiling as-for, what-can-do-not, clearing-spreading is

天井 ('ceiling') is also slang for 'sky' (often paired with 青 to make 青天井 'blue ceiling = sky'). 澄み渡る = 澄む ('clarify') + 渡る ('cross / extend'), with 〜渡る adding 'extends across the whole space.' どうしようもなく ('there's nothing to be done about it') stresses helplessness — even the sky's clarity feels like indifference.

Do-means-not me-in sprouted impatience (subj) swelling-go

なすすべのない ('having no recourse') is a literary phrase: なす ('do') + すべ ('means'). The combination feels older than the modern どうしようもない. 芽吹く ('to bud') applied to 焦燥 ('impatience') treats anxiety as a plant taking root.

No-matter-what cowardly we, laughing as-if, thousand eyes (subj) peered

幾千 ('how-many-thousand' = thousands and thousands) is the literary alternative to 何千. The 〜ように in 笑うように is the comparative 'as if (laughing)' use, distinct from the purpose 'so that' use. 覗く is the spying-through-a-crack verb.

Many-times-many-times broken heart (obj) just hold-tight only

心が折れる ('the heart snaps') is the standard idiom for being mentally broken — closer to English 'crushed' than 'heartbroken' (which would be 心を痛める). 抱きしめる ('hold + tighten') is the verb for a deep embrace, not a casual one.

Someday ashes-into-become that day until

灰になる ('become ashes') is a euphemism for cremation, the standard funerary practice in Japan. The phrase keeps death indirect — Bleach-appropriate, since the show is about death and what comes after.

Have-been-swallowing sadness-of-everything (subj) me (obj) shaped color-with fills

飲み込む ('swallow / suppress') is the verb for choking down feelings. 〜てきた compresses 'have been ~ing up to now.' 形作る ('shape-form') is a compound: the swallowed sadness is what gives the speaker his shape.

And-then have-been-choosing it-must-be, breath-with-same-way one-one have-been-stacking

呼吸 (kokyuu) — the technical word for 'breathing' (vs. casual 息). Saying you've stacked sorrows '同じように 呼吸' ('the same as breath') makes the choice involuntary.

This hand-of-inside-of, count-cannot, fade-cannot-became

数え切れない uses 〜きれない ('can't finish ~ing') — 数える + 切れない = 'can't finish counting' = countless. 消えなくなる is the 'pattern of becoming impossible': 消える ('fade') + ない (not) + なる (become) = 'become non-fading.'

Revealed marked faced those memories also engraving, together again set-off-walking

Three past-tense verbs in series — 明かした 印した 向かい合った — describe stages of confronting something: revealed it, marked it, faced it. The chain piles up like signature events. 刻む ('carve / engrave') makes the memory permanent.

Blue-ceiling as-for, what-can-do-not, clearing-spreading is

青天井 ('blue ceiling') is the literal kanji for 'open sky' — also used for things 'with no upper limit' (like a stock-market high). Mirror of the opening verse, with あの天井 ('that ceiling') resolved into 青天井 ('blue ceiling') — the same image, named more specifically.

Aching wound (obj) heal as-if, resignation-and my hand (obj) pulled

Personifying 諦め ('giving-up / resignation') as something that takes your hand makes the act of surrender feel intimate, almost compassionate — a friend leading you away from pain.

Many-times-many-times regret (obj) stacking, even-so still

後悔 (koukai) is the noun for regret as an action — 後悔する ('to regret') is one of the easiest verbs in Japanese once you have the noun. 重ねる ('to stack / pile') is the same verb that took 'sadness one by one' earlier.

Flickering light (subj) dazzling-and, this eye-in reflected hope-of-all (subj)

散らつく ('to flicker / fall in scattered fragments') — used for snow, dust, or for unstable light. Pairs with 眩しい to make a vision that's both beautiful and impossible to look at.

Someday crumble-away, blackly muddy, change-end-up-completely even-if

Three verbs of decay stacked: 崩れ去る ('crumble-away'), 濁る ('grow muddy'), 変わり果てる ('change to completion / change beyond recognition'). The 〜果てる suffix means 'do completely / to the limit' — it intensifies the change.

Distorted disappointment-of-whisper (obj) drown-erase as-if, heart-of-depth-in someone shouted

掻き消す ('scratch-erase') = an aggressive 'erase' — used when you crank one sound up to bury another. The image: an inner voice cranks volume to override the whisper of despair.

Just stop-walking, sit-down, end (obj) wait if, regret-also disappointment-also need-not despite

〜なら sets a hypothetical: 'IF you do X.' 〜のに at the end gives the contrast: 'and yet you still suffer.' The whole sentence is the song's diagnosis: regret only exists because the speaker still tries — and that's not a flaw.

Darkness-against resisting, choose-take, tomorrow (obj) wish you-of beauty-to admire-completely-past

憧れてしまった uses 〜てしまう as 'ended up doing (against my better judgment).' The speaker fell for someone's beauty as a side effect of watching them resist — admiration he didn't plan to feel.

Mistake-and how-many regretting, tomorrow (subj) scary-and, wound (obj) stab

傷を刺す ('stab the wound') is the song's title-image: not letting it heal. Doing it on purpose, picking at the scab.

Anyone-to-also can't-hand-over, my-only pain is

誰にも渡せない pairs the universally-quantified 誰にも with the potential negative 渡せない: 'no one can be the recipient.' The pain is non-transferable — Bleach-resonant, since the show's whole drama is whose burden goes where.

Revealed marked welcomed-each-other those memories also engraving, together again set-off-walking

Mirror of the earlier verse, with one verb upgraded: 向かい合った ('faced each other') becomes 迎え合った ('welcomed each other'). The relationship has crossed from confrontation into homecoming.