In those years, I was the cinnabar mole in your heart. You are the white moonlight beside my bed.
I won't marry you unless I am, and I won't marry unless you are.
Time is easy to throw away the fleeting years, turning cherries red and bananas green.
Where is the person who went crazy for him all those years ago?
Is it because time has forgotten love, or we have become yesterday's injuries.
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