Who are you, Dōji Morita, and how did you come to be so melancholy? All I have to go off is the title, A Boy, and the soft-spoken Japanese lull of your singing. Who is this boy? How did he hurt you so? As I grow older I find myself becoming increasingly content with not knowing - not understanding - things, mysteries allowing for numberless possibilities, a sandbox brimming with what-ifs. Dōji Morita sinks sprawling into the grass as the moon on the horizon dwarfs the sun and I hope she is doing well, I hope she is doing fine, that life has been good to her.
For fans of mournful, mysterious songs from a now ever more distant past.
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