The late wind blows the winter snow.
Whose girl in the bridge side of the sun happy face.
Looking at that happy little face.
My life’s weariness, can not be covered by the fake flower.
Let me solo, not sentimentally attached.
Still thinking of that night in my empty room.
The bright moon that night.
But with the cry of parting.
Hiding by the bridge, with the glass heart and tears.
Counting the boats across the bridge. it’s kind of homely.
Have a kind of warmth and consideration, dream of perfect love one night.
Can’t sleep. it’s still light.
A place that doesn’t belong to me. Where should I go?
Count the roses with thorns in their hearts.
In the heart. that belongs to the heart of autumn and winter.
It’s a bit cold again.
On a rainy day.
Which hill side of the bay, do not want to disturb the house.
In the approaching winter.
The blessing of that time period, have a few words is to put to the lonely room.
The alarm clock to get up, has sounded with the crow.
No warm bed. has driven away my exhaustion and luxury.
The artificial flowers in front of the house, open again beautiful also can’t become the real flower.
It’s a symbol of a place that doesn’t belong to me.
The one who trembles his heart.
This once belonged to love beautiful good house, has become the prison of shackles.
How can I say forget. lost.
Keep your happiness enclosed in happiness.
The fall of the smile, for the destruction of love.
Belong to the quiet me, can only think of leaving the song.
Where there is love, please inform around.
I do not want to shed tears, do not want to miss the heart.
Then miss the bridge girl. think of the broken love.
Chained heart, has planted loneliness in the open heart.
I think I am alone. I am alone.
And the beauty of the falling moon.
A person well, is the most beautiful happiness.
Very happy, happier than before.