"Flowing in the Wind"

I used to be hazy, too young, always full of endless imagination, I was too confused, I was too crazy, music was my greatest strength, low-key singing of the world's wonderful, high-profile performance of natural beauty was too stubborn, I was too stubborn, writing was my greatest hope, success was the wind of success, the wind of rigidity and softness, the beating dance steps, the magical rhythm was elegant, the eternal road of self was the road of freewheeling, life was indomitable, crazy youth, elegant silence, this is my life, I was hazy and too young, always full of endless imagination, I was too confusedIt is because I am too crazy, music is my greatest strength, low-key singing of the world's wonderful, high-profile performance of natural beauty is my too stubborn, I am too stubborn, writing is my greatest hope, success is the wind of success and fame, the wind of rigidity and softness, the beating dance steps, the magical rhythm is the eternal road of the self, the road is freewheeling, the life is the life of indomitable, the crazy youth, the elegant silence, this is my life

"Flowers Are Not Flowers"

The traces of the years on the face of the flame of youth, in the bottom of the heart, remember the joy on the road, sadness at the feet is attachment, is the indignation, the flowers sway in the wind, the grass is willing to match the beauty under the flowers, the lining is like soft water, if God soothes the soft beauty of the flowers, the cycle of time is still, the stamens have indeed changed the taste, when the grass soul has passed, the annual rings of the years invade, leaving only the memories are bitter and difficult to understand, the silence is difficult to find, the vicissitudes of life, desolation, there is no doubt that things are not people, flowers are no longer flowers, where should I go, where should I go...... Leave a song of flowers, non-flowers, scattered flowers, swaying in the wind, grass under the flowers, willing to match, beautiful, precious, lined with no regrets, like soft water, if God soothes when the flowers are still soft, the cycle of time is still, the stamens have indeed changed the taste, when the grass's soul has passed, the annual rings of the years invade, leaving only memories of bitter and difficult to understand, silent and difficult to find, the vicissitudes of life, desolation, no doubt that things are not people, flowers are not flowers, where should I go, where should I go...... Leave a flower not a flower song

"The Season of Withered Flowers"

If I say goodbye yesterday and today, I would say, don't let me see it. Remembering you, a photo, a trace of love, flowing in my heart. I want you to open your eyes and see how pitiful I am, alone in the night, I can't sleep alone, I can't go on like this, I can't wander like this anymore, even if the wind is strong, I will never retreat the withered petals, the lost eyes, the missed red face, is the wheel of fate. The withered flowers, the lost time, the drifting jasmine, the dusty songs. The withered words, the rebellious temper, the pouring rain, the stubborn self. The withering flower season, the breath that stops, the shooting stars that pass by, I want to live bravely! Remembering you, a photo, a trace of love, flowing in my heart. I want you to open your eyes and see how pitiful I am, alone in the night, I can't sleep alone, I can't go on like this, I can't wander like this anymore, even if the wind is strong, I will never retreat the withered petals, the lost eyes, the missed red face, is the wheel of fate. The withered flowers, the lost time, the drifting jasmine, the dusty songs. The withered words, the rebellious temper, the pouring rain, the stubborn self. The withering flowers, the breath that stops, the shooting stars that pass by, I want to live bravely!