Raise your head to look at the bright moon, lower your head to think about your hometown.
There is a bright moon every night, but I don't often go to my hometown.
I think, I read, I think
Just one person
He is my hometown and my dream
Close at hand, but out of reach
So I smashed the dream with my own hands and watched my hometown disappear
hometown, hometown
when will you return
my dream
When will you return it to me?
Perhaps only in this long-term contract can I finally feel at ease with loving him.
This is a silent and warm little story. It belonged to them, just him and him, the two of them.
Intention: Raise your head to look at the bright moon, lower your head to think about your hometown.