The mourning of youth comes from your desireless time and passes away on your hopeless hills. Yesterday is gone and the road ahead is long. A song has been abandoned in the four seasons before it is finished. A dream has not yet awakened and has been committed to the dust - without defense.
You were my dream, but it's a pity that the dream didn't last long.
Before I wake up from the dream, my heart is still hurt. What is my life like? How can I finish the future?
When the winding road turns, I encounter the scenery of this life.