I don't love you. You told me many lies. Then my dear, I should lie for you once. So, I don't love you.
Looking up at the sky, the stars will not be lonely, but I selfishly took off the one that belongs to you to warm my left pocket and my right pocket to warm me. God said that only then will the angels sing, an eternal song: "Pocket Lover"
Dear, are you tired after running for a long time?