Ants, ants, ants, butterfly wings, ants, ants, ants, no problem.
No more, no less, two acres of land in the sun, sowing in winter, not planting things in summer.
I have no rainbow, no cow, no plow, only an axe in my hand.
I am grateful when I see the sun on a cloudy day and rain on a sunny day.
A friend came to visit and invited him to eat a piece of western claw skin. He sneezed at the enemy when they came.
Three hundred and sixty-five days a year, the four seasons of grain are peanuts, red dates, tears and millet.
Think about the neighbor's daughter, listen to the radio and see. My ideal is still buried in the soil.
Three hundred and sixty-five days a year, the four seasons of grain are peanuts, red dates, tears and millet.
Think about the neighbor's daughter, listen to the radio and see. My ideal is still buried in the soil.
Plant watermelon beans in winter, and harvest them in summer.
The sun shines on this land at eight or nine o'clock, and there are ten sweat on my head. I just have no temper.
I have no worries about the past, but an ant was born with the same thin arms and thighs.
No matter what clothes others wear, our brother's skin will always be black.
Three hundred and sixty-five days a year, the four seasons of grain are peanuts, red dates, tears and millet.
Think about the neighbor's daughter, listen to the radio and see. My ideal is still buried in the soil.
Ant, ant, ant, ant, locust's thigh, ant, ant's eyes.
Ants, ants, ants, butterfly wings, ants, ants, ants, no problem.
Ant, ant, ant, ant, locust's thigh, ant, ant's eyes.
Ants, ants, ants, butterfly wings, ants, ants, ants, no problem.