The world is too crowded, let go of your hand
Give each other the so-called breath
Always thought it was a short intermission
We can better hold hands at the next intersection
But I forgot that butterflies cannot fly across the sea
turn around
It turns out that the two of them went in opposite directions.
Fading away...
Know it from the beginning
You are like a knife piercing memories
I'm bruised and bruised all over, but I can't bear to put an end to it
Know it from the beginning
You won't stay with me until I grow old
And I am not the protagonist of this story either
Intention: