Feather fan scarf joke room
Thousands of troops and thousands of horses, I am flawless
The hypocritical gentleman's three-foot sword
I tolerate the wolf fire and beacon smoke
Born in troubled times, he acts without saying a word
Don't ask anyone to judge your merits and demerits
For whom the light is lit?
For whom is the fat added?
No one can laugh at me, I'm too crazy
It keeps raining
The wind keeps blowing
Who will drink with me and discuss the world?
Thousands of arrows fired
Murderous
Who can bear with me to settle down in troubled times?
Three-thirds of the world
For whom to fight for hegemony?
Now I have my sword pointing to the end of the world
But I just want to play the piano for you
No worries from now on