On the treetop at the beginning of the month,
The dim street lights on both sides of the street began to waver,
Welcome to the noisy night scene ...
Various vehicles on the road,
Exhaust gas pollutes the air!
Loud horns make the bored mood even more restless.
Watching the speeding motorcycles thinking about the quiet town of their hometown ...
Driving his mount, which is always empty,
Exaggeratingly twisting on that familiar road,
Every now and then he hummed and vented.
Speeding on that silent night road,
Let the wind blow away thoughts, blow away sorrow, blow through camouflage ...
Wandering on the familiar night road,
Looking for the lost innocence, looking for the already lost self ...
Hate the road, hate the night; it makes me feel more empty!
The wall made of indifferent can't resist the lonely devour,
The empty right-hand side is silent speech ...
Hate the road, the intricate lines, the dense twists and turns.
Always daze at the crossroads and get lost in the crossroads of life!
The road was cultivated by myself,
The road I cultivated was tortuous and intermittent ...
I had longed for a fast shuttle through the mountain but lost my original direction in that stumble,
Wait until the densely covered scars begin to turn into the avenue,
Or the track has deviated too much.
But I still stubbornly looking for the stage,
Maybe the last road to be cleared is my grave,
Then I will perform the dance steps that belong to one person on the grave, and then the curtain ...
The corners of the road connect too many unknown,
Why in the end, expect and wait ...