Crazy in the middle of the night, crazy in the middle of the night.
Chasing the moon in the hot sun, you caught it, catching up with half the moon.
The trembling moonlight, how she illuminates your bottomless wounds.
The moon without stars, how sad and hesitant she is.
Sad for your obsession, wandering for your loneliness.
When you walk proudly in the starry sky, the city is already asleep.
Dreams are not everyone's dreams. There are always some crazy people in the middle of the night, and the crazy people are still looking up.
The car under your feet is a bell horn to remind the madman, and it is your half moon.
A neat street lamp is not as persistent and heartless as you.
Getting together is your hobby, when you are around.
Until the separation, you are reluctant to go, pulling down half of your face, you are the madman in this late night.
Always counting your own cycles, always looking at your sense of fulfillment, life can't escape after all, rain or shine, joys and sorrows.
After half a month, I left in the middle of the night and stayed in a city just for one person.