Sunadokei no Kofu

What if someone's job were to gather up the seconds other people dropped? This song began with that daydream. The twelve minutes you were late, the three seconds you never said "sorry" - I felt they weren't gone, just piling up somewhere. I turned the feelings of the miners who dig them out into a melody that smells of dry sand. Shake one in your palm and it's still a little warm. I hope it reaches anyone who keeps a moment like that hidden in their pocket.