Treasure jewelry, put down, pick up
There will be a lock that only you can open. There will be a door that you can only knock on, which is your collection of jewels. Under the shade of trees, that pure smile, is my permanent motivation to fly.
There will be a number you will never forget, there will be face you will never miss. In my dreams, my countless time looking for that jewelry, the kind of melancholy and firm eyes. Ignorant, the years quietly leave, lost, you gently walked away. For me, will there be one faith, rock firm?
There will be a season for flowers to be free and open. There will be a time for fruit such as jewelry hanging trees. But what about me, is there a happy and peaceful day, a happy and happy year, a plain and fulfilling life?
When the honeysuckle open to the ground, when the peach plum all over the branches, when the filling of sprinkling rice panicle, when the tobacco bathing dress. When everything is ready for jewelry, when everything is born, then you and I, whether it is hairy white?
Now, we gently put down, in the future. We can still pick up?
Now, we can find reasons apart, in the future, we have a reason to reunite? Perhaps, we do not expect to pick-up, perhaps, we do not expect to reunite. But do we still have the time, the courage, the pick up, the down?
Instead of looking forward to the future, it is better to cherish the present.
Instead of praying silently, it is better to take it seriously.
Quietly, parting of the flute, quiet, jungle drawbridge.
Stormy, swaying life, poised, thousands of miles of the torrent.
There will be a lock that only you can open. There will be a door that you can only knock on, which is your collection of jewels. Under the shade of trees, that pure smile, is my permanent motivation to fly.
There will be a number you will never forget, there will be face you will never miss. In my dreams, my countless time looking for that jewelry, the kind of melancholy and firm eyes. Ignorant, the years quietly leave, lost, you gently walked away. For me, will there be one faith, rock firm?
There will be a season for flowers to be free and open. There will be a time for fruit such as jewelry hanging trees. But what about me, is there a happy and peaceful day, a happy and happy year, a plain and fulfilling life?
When the honeysuckle open to the ground, when the peach plum all over the branches, when the filling of sprinkling rice panicle, when the tobacco bathing dress. When everything is ready for jewelry, when everything is born, then you and I, whether it is hairy white?
Now, we gently put down, in the future. We can still pick up?
Now, we can find reasons apart, in the future, we have a reason to reunite? Perhaps, we do not expect to pick-up, perhaps, we do not expect to reunite. But do we still have the time, the courage, the pick up, the down?
Instead of looking forward to the future, it is better to cherish the present.
Instead of praying silently, it is better to take it seriously.
Quietly, parting of the flute, quiet, jungle drawbridge.
Stormy, swaying life, poised, thousands of miles of the torrent.