The loneliness in the city after the rain is mixed with a trace of embarrassment. Standing at the intersection of the crossroads, I have no other excuses to have you. The wind that has stopped blows again, and the sky is filled with purple rain again.
Xuan, I don't love you, I just want you to warm me, Xuan, I tell myself this.
Xuan, I am just a vine that needs a tree, Xuan, I tell myself this.
Xuan, we are so similar, so similar that we cannot be together.