I arranged Yorushika's Thoughtcrime. An homage to Housai Ozaki and George Orwell's 1984. From the album Plagiarism:
"I'm a thief.
Various kinds of thieves have existed throughout history, but I'm a bit different from those guys.
I don't steal money. I also have zero interest in things like antique jewels or valuable works of arts.
I'm a thief who steals sounds." - n-buna, Plagiarism

Original: Yorushika    • ヨルシカ - 思想犯（OFFICIAL VIDEO）  

Arrange, MV, translation: shinoshiki
Vocal: Kasane Teto SV
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Yorushika TL:

You, who are so kind to others, could never understand this heart of mine.
I enjoy cursing people; that used to be why I wrote songs.
I had dreamt of being featured in the morning news, someday;
for that reason, I sharpen my knife.

The sound of glass being smashed, the act of ripping apart some kind of paper, the setting sun after a farewell –
surely, even you understand that they're beautiful, right?

The crows' song is dyed a deep red,
and this loneliness, too, turns into sound.
In the last remaining traces of the dusk in my memory,
you stand on your tiptoes; the clouds burn red, and the word "goodbye" slips right off my tongue.

I want to be acknowledged, I want to love–
are these what they call "dreams?"
Even if I do nothing to achieve them, let them come true. Hurry up and gratify me.
Society, which is so kind to others, could never understand this envy.
I'm always looking for an opportunity to hit someone.

Hitting a streetlight with a beer bottle, the sound of a guitar breaking after being thrown;
all these irreparable regrets are beautiful— That said, even I understand! And yet.....

I'm struck by a rain of words,
and winter tumbles down on me even as I hold autumn dearly in my arms.
From behind the mountain in spring, one more breath of smoke drifts upwards—
and the summer breeze slips across my cheek.

You, who are so kind to others, could never understand this loneliness of mine.
I don't want to die, but I can't go on living; that's why I write songs.
I think disparagement, disappointment, and disgust all have their eyes on me.
That's why I write songs that hurt people.
That's why I write vapid songs such as this.

I want to swallow your words.
I don't even have anything to put them in, so I use both my hands.
Before i know it my throat will get wet,
And while I wait for that time to come…

The crows' song is dyed a deep red,
and I plead for this loneliness to transform into song.
The word "goodbye" dyes you a deep red,
and, now, I wait for the night.
The words "see you tomorrow" slips off my tongue.