The sky is gloomy, like a crying sea, and the pain comes like a flood, sweeping away trust, sympathy and care. It has become helpless, determined to confess, and tragedy has come. Trembling hands trying to break away from your love. This impulse may be wrong. I'd rather not love, I won't hurt, even if you have been looking forward to it, don't blame me for leaving, you will understand sooner or later; I'd rather not love, I won't hurt, no matter how painful you are, forgive me for leaving, my willful blame is too pale.