Can't see the road clearly.
I don't remember the street sign when I came.
I am in this strange world.
Think of the beautiful scenery and water in my hometown.
I don't know when to start.
The world has become blurred.
I don't know when to start.
The tree buds no longer grow.
I came to this place where I can't see the blue sky.
Facing the cold and hard asphalt road
I was in tears.
Facing piles of steel trees
My eyes are empty and numb.
go home
Yes! go home
Back to the river without black water
Go back to the buttonwood where hundreds of birds gather.
In the back, you can see the bright stars in the night sky.
but
Mom.
I can't go back.
I can only sink in this world that makes me feel dirty.
Struggle in this suffocating air, struggle
I slowly despair in the struggle.
Despair in this chaotic world
Mom.
I can't go back.
Never go back.
Endure the imprisonment of stone benches behind bars.
I can't find the way to freedom.
Who can tell me?
Where is the original ecological country?
I remembered the soft afterglow of my hometown when the sun set.
I don't want to face this cold fluorescent lamp anymore.
I can't smell the sunshine anymore.
That smell fascinates me
How can I get back to the country road?
I came all the way.
Missed the blooming season of azaleas in my hometown
I can only be disappointed with the plastic that is tangible and godless.
I came all the way.
I gave up the season of seeing my hometown flying all over the country.
I am far from home.
Good far
Mom.
I can't go back.
I really can't go back.
Who will save me, a lost man?
Who can tell me the way home?
Mom.
Where are you?
I really can't go back this time.
Maybe only in dreams.
I can see the home that makes me dream.
Everything in the dream is so nostalgic.
The truth is always terrible.
I want to leave this mother's house at once.
I want to fly to that charming hometown at once.
but
Mom.
I can't go back, I can't go back. . . . . . .