Before turning around, the first few words of rap lyrics are that the weather is getting darker, the city is getting brighter and neon is shuttling through the crowd. . .

It's getting dark and the city is neon.

Shuttling through the crowd is like being in a maze.

Eyes are used to looking for your whereabouts in the crowd.

A moment later, he thought it was a stupid action.

She is no longer the place where they used to stay together.

She has left the street where they once walked together.

Gorgeous memories began to play symphonies in my mind.

At the end of the song, only he and her memories are fighting desperately.

Like a familiar smell, it seems that it still remains on the familiar streets.

That sentence, practiced countless times in front of the mirror, still remains in my chest.

Her little bits and pieces are the killers who let him kill himself.

Accustomed to silence, indifference, indifference, just after she left.

I turned around and you left. This story is staged every day.

It's like there are always people who think they are willing to risk their feelings.

They always think that the other party will give him another chance, give him another chance.

But they will always understand that they have missed the deadline.

Accustomed to using pessimism to accumulate emotions.

Accustomed to avoiding betrayal with indifference

I will pay for my youth with a heartfelt oath.

Bet your life, want to stop and find the last stop.

Thought we could face the darkness together,

So you're not the other half of the puzzle,

The door you want to open is another door.

The bus of life will eventually reach the last stop on the lost road.

The computer turned on at three o'clock in the morning has a cup of cold bitter coffee.

He remembered who was by her side and who would sleep with her at this time.

I began to think that fate was a wonderful question, and he didn't answer it correctly.

He stretched out his arms as if he could hug her again, but he never had a chance again.

He would greet her online and say, hi.

She will urge him to go to bed early as before.

He will secretly read her personal data when he is bored.

Once I find out that she is in a bad mood, I hope I can be on call again.

He asked her many times, can you start over?

She asked him in turn, do you think we can still do it?

He crustily skin of head replied that it should be all right.

After half a day, I waited for the answer, hehe, good night, I went to bed.

This familiar and strange feeling made him sad.

He didn't know whether it was true between them or whether she pretended to be indifferent.

He couldn't figure out why the familiar her is so difficult to grasp now.

How to break the situation of going, staying and returning?

Accustomed to using pessimism to accumulate emotions.

Accustomed to avoiding betrayal with indifference

I will pay for my youth with a heartfelt oath.

Bet your life, want to stop and find the last stop.

Thought we could face the darkness together,

So you're not the other half of the puzzle,

The door you want to open is another door.

The bus of life will eventually reach the last stop on the lost road.

He can talk and laugh with others during the day.

At night, he feels like a lonely kite.

He found that he couldn't sleep unless he was drunk every night.

Missing is like a bottomless pit, where he teeters.

He no longer does not touch his body to pursue a leaf among thousands of flowers.

He just goes to work, eats, sleeps for a long time and doesn't touch meat.

He changed his screen name from question to clown.

He feels that this title describes him now.

He directed many films for them with paper and pen.

He is good at bringing the audience into dreams by montage.

He set off the heroine's amorous feelings with black and white silent style.

But his colorful female number one is just a silhouette.

He asked himself, who did this self-mutilation hurt?

Did everything at that moment just come from the first beauty?

She's right. He's only fit to live in memories.

He and the young lady fell from the 2 1 building, but he felt like flying.

Accustomed to using pessimism to accumulate emotions.

Accustomed to avoiding betrayal with indifference

I will pay for my youth with a heartfelt oath.

Bet your life, want to stop and find the last stop.

Thought we could face the darkness together,

So you're not the other half of the puzzle,

The door you want to open is another door.

The bus of life will eventually reach the last stop on the lost road.