A ghost from the past life never sleeps, knocking on your door, never sleeps, knocking on your windows. A ghost from the past life, sleepless, lingering in your dreams, disturbing your peace, sleepless, surrounding you, mocking your shallowness and unfeeling. A ghost from the past, letting the salty liquid overflow in the darkness, letting the silly smile float. In the swaying wind, let the corner of the mocking mouth slightly raise, a ghost from the past life, sleepless, wandering everywhere you have walked, sleepless, sleepless, hiding in the corner holding the broken heart, turning over and over again to mend it! Sleepless and sleepless, because I didn't drink the legendary bowl of Meng Po soup.