When life is a journey to different places,
When the love, hate, and
the past are all sealed...
There is still a crazy heart, jumping.
Although no one can understand its loneliness,
although every smile on the corner of the mouth is tied to the pain in the heart,
although there are still many fragments of regret remaining on the edge of memory,
but looking back, it is too late.
This is Bad,
the old boy who is called Bad Boy despite his old age.
The one who is meticulous about music,
has had honor, has had love,
But all is past...
The one ahead is just passing by.
Maybe this kind of self is the loneliest
one, galloping in the empty suburbs,
looking up is the blue sky of the white cloud and the dog, and in the ear is the
lazy and lingering BLUES ,
you, you, you, you, you, you, you, you, you, you, you, you, you... the end of.
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