In those days, the world was overturned.
In spring, peach blossoms always bloom, and in wine, it always comes nearly a month ago. Leaning against the building and listening to the sound of rain, everything is green. The world of mortals is chaotic and snowy, and meeting each other becomes a tragedy.
Who turns around and stares, full of youth. A frown and a smile, longing for lovesickness.
Who holds the sword, flutters his sleeves, raises his glass and gets drunk alone. One move, one song, one sigh.
The eyebrows are curved like the crescent moon, and the bright eyes are drunk with stars. When they meet in the vastness, they are destined to be prosperous and sad. Staying with you for a season, watching the flowers fall to the ground, singing a song with you, playing three thousand obsessions, the two ends of the world, but in the end, they are nothing more than a mirror.
Obsession, obsession.