The curtain of the deep painting stops, the mayflies in the shallow summer, and the lonely couch refuses to sleep at night,

The bright moon is thousands of miles.

When the ruler was sent back, he looked west to Hangzhou countless times, thinking about the red signature of the year, and only hoped that Yi would be the same.

Hot pot and wine

Knead us in greasy dishes and chopsticks

Scraps on the table

It's young and ignorant

It's ignorant

It's a shirt and a skirt

It's love letters and lipstick

The night frantically pounded on the car window.

Can't wake up,

A person asleep leaning against a car window.

The lights are in spite of the danger,

Stick your hand out the window.

Rails and wheels don't listen to the radio.

Loud noise.

The ice cream in my hand is too hot,

Gasping for air.

Holding the night,

Isn't it the same

Holding thousands of mountains and rivers,

Your shadow.

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