From City C to City D, the same flow of people
Into the left ear, out in the right ear
I want to be where pain passes through you
Plant a bouquet of roses. However
This soil is very dry
Ling, the thorn nailed into my palm yesterday
like a flower that keeps dying
Like these footprints left by unfamiliar faces
Coming from the hometown of wind
Go away from the back of the wind
At this moment, if I were the wind
I want to see the grass growing tenaciously under the stones
from winter to spring
I have to keep washing my eyes
Looking forward to the feeling of you filling them with fields