Those long afternoons, those streets full of dampness, those dialogues that have been rehearsed over and over again, those ethereal
Each of the jumping notes is treasured in the small attic of my memory, and is taken out from time to time to bask in the sunshine.
Dust off the accumulated dust.
I am obsessed with those summers, just like I am obsessed with you who come and go around me in a hurry.
I always remember those songs we sang, those chapters left behind in the gap in time. I hope they will have one
Tian Neng can all be resurrected and once again be sung by those young people who flaunt their youth in the wind...