Following the rhythm of the wind, the pear blossoms and rain are being staged, and love stains the spring on the rice paper. Uncontrollably blooming, with the wind into the night, stating the fragrance of flowers full of scripts.
The memories that can't be erased, the love that can't be deleted, are shaking the snow white and pink, becoming the background of lovesickness. The spring breeze that woke up walked a long way alone, throwing his sorrow into a diary that had just been on the road.
In the last lyric, I don't know what to do when I take the look she handed over. A glass of beer and a cigarette will occupy the whole night, and the washed bright moon will be placed on a clean plate, waiting to be shared.
The feast of time begins with the bowl of wind and snow that I took over easily. The food that has been spared salt is also put into the blue sky. When I woke up in the middle of the night, peeling back the layers of the past, I could hear the name of my love.
Inconspicuous scenes, there are always some tears that make me awe, the feeling of loving someone, thinner than a shadow, but deep in the memory, feeding lonely and sad poetry.
The memories that can't be deleted, the love that can't be deleted, the snow has been falling, the dense words have fallen, and the deep footprints that have been erased by the years have made me fall in love.