One day, I'll be old

Like a withered leaf detached from a branch

Drift in the wind

My mind will also be out of my shell

Go to a place I couldn't have predicted

There it gradually decayed into dust

Diffuse

Since then, this time

There was no longer the growth of my mind

There is no trace of my mind anymore

One day, I'll be old

I've been walking through the turmoil

It will also diffuse

in this world

I can no longer see the flowers of my mood

I can no longer hear the singing of my mood

I can't smell the fragrance of my mood anymore

If anyone remembers

I used to be vast

Please use the most deserted way

Banish it into desolation

Don't remember again

The pathos of my life

I only depict my mood flowers as withering and never blooming

Only my mood was sung and destroyed, without any sound

I only wrapped the fragrance of my mood and buried it deeply

"Wandering Love and Love" We 107, one day, I am old and I am in the hand, please wait a moment,

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