Who is whose God, who is whose slave. Who reunites with whom on a stranger's road, who sings and dances in front of others, pretentiously trying to relive an old dream. . .
Don't forget, don't forget, how can I bear the sadness that follows me all by myself?
The frozen youth is full of sweetness. In the dream, your voice and smile are the same as before, not like the cold eyebrows and eyes now. I am thousands of miles away from you, my eyes are wet, but I still can't get close. . .