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Romaji
nǐ shì shī rén màn bù zài fēng huā xuě yuè de zǎo chén
nǐ bù pà lěng wài tóu de qì wēn zhèng wēn hé
nǐ wēi xiào zhe wǒ de yǎn kuàng què hóng le
*
nǐ shì shī rén xì shù chuāng wài xuě piāo luò duō bīn fēn
nǐ hěn kuài lè xiǎng shòu zhe gū dú de piàn kè
nǐ duō tiān zhēn yǐ wéi yī qiè shì zhè yàng de
huàn xiǎng de dōu huì chéng zhēn nán guò de dōu méi fā shēng
mèng xiǎng zài dà nǐ hái shì kàn bù jiàn wǒ ài de zài shēn nǐ hái shì ài zì jǐ duō
nǐ bù huì dǒng shāng kǒu zhēn de huì tòng
nǐ xīn lǐ de yǔ zhòu wǒ bù zài rèn hé jiǎo luò
shì jiè zài dà nǐ hái shì yuán dì bù dòng shuō de zài duō nǐ cóng lái yě méi tīng dǒng
nǐ de yōu mò xiàng bō lí huá pò shuāng shǒu
wǒ zài nǐ de yǎn zhōng zhǐ shì huà miàn pīn còu
repeat *
rú guǒ wǒ shòu kùn zài gù shì zhōng nǐ shì fǒu huì lái zhěng jiù wǒ
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Translation
You are a poet,
you wander in the early morning
You are not afraid of the cold,
it's warm outside
You smile
but my eyes turn red.
You are a poet, counting the snowflakes outside the window, falling vibrantly
You are happy, enjoying the moment of being alone
You are too naive, thinking that everything is going to be like this
Thinking that everything you imagine would come true, and that there wouldn't be sadness involved
What's the point of dreaming big? When I'm not in it, and you can't see me? I gave my all to you, but it seems that you still love yourself more.
You won't get it. That wound, it really hurts.
In that heart of yours, I don't see myself in any of the corners.
No matter how big this world is, you're still there, unmoving. What's the point of communicating, when you don't ever get it?
Your so-called sense of humor is like a piece of broken glass, scraping both hands
For you, I've always been pieces of pictures put together
You are a poet, counting the snowflakes outside the window, falling vibrantly
You are happy, enjoying the moment of being alone
You are too naive, thinking that everything is going to be like this
Thinking that everything you imagine would come true, and that there wouldn't be sadness involved
What's the point of dreaming big? When I'm not in it, and you can't see me? I gave my all to you, but it seems that you still love yourself more.
You won't get it. That wound, it really hurts.
In that heart of yours, I don't see myself in any of the corners.
No matter how big this world is, you're still there, unmoving. What's the point of communicating, when you don't ever get it?
Your so-called sense of humor is like a piece of broken glass, scraping both hands
For you, I've always been pieces of pictures put together
If I was trapped in the story, would you rescue me and take me away?
Credits: Manson Loh from YouTube
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