The sun passes over the crabapple tree
It's Friday when I bow my head when I fall in love with you
Dance with white skirt floating
It's the lingering lake under the stilted building in western Hunan
That year, we sang "Who said separation from love is always bitter"
Looking back now, I am no longer in a dimly lit place
Woohoo, whose kite is crying?
Count the romantic affairs in detail in the corner of the wall
Can't go back, can't forget, who knows how bitter it is.
Hey hey hey, here's a bottle of good wine
Let's meet again in dreams