No end

compose:small skin
's past is empty
is scattered in the morning mist
is lost in Zhu Linzhong
does not move
blows a wanton cold wind
with a brisk stabbing pain
with a false tenderness
does not understand
look at the Chinese parasol on the street
without trace
tide is rising and disconsolate
don't think in delusion to bind
mourning to hide the heart
uninvited guests have come to visit
's self appreciation for water singers
is shaking in the palm of his hand
story a few chapters of a dream
look at the Chinese parasol on the street
without trace
tide is rising and disconsolate
don't think in delusion to bind
mourning to hide the heart
uninvited guests have come to visit
's self appreciation for water singers
is shaking in the palm of his hand
story a few chapters of a dream
's past is empty
is scattered in the morning mist
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03:26