Play with a bong

On the gray eaves of the small courtyard of the farmhouse

She's wearing makeup

The mountains are covered with light gauze clothes

It seems to be a moon-rising cream

Looking back at the green hills

It's hard to think, the white tiger sits in the hall

A song of eyebrows stares at your voice

Out of Yangguan in the west, graceful and suave

Three gongs and drums

Fallen flowers flow with the water

Not ridiculous, not panicked

It's always singing on stage

At the end of the song, people are scattered, unforgettable in the wind, but a dream

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[Special Feature] beautiful senior sister?cold male god?future together GO!GO!