The place where we first met, the notes of your dreams and the flowing time, are my most beautiful treasures. The twinkling Sirius in the night sky illuminates your and my path forward. The dust passing through the sun in the air is the witness of our encounter. The quicksand flies in front of my eyes, messing up my years. The quicksand falls from my fingers, and you and I lose our direction.
Concept: I don't know where the quicksand is scattered, and the old songs are not sung by old friends. A meeting at a young age is just a meeting after all. From now on, there will be no more of you in my world