"Ideal Thirty"
Lyrics: Tang Yingfeng
Composer: Chen Hongyu
Singer: Chen Hongyu
Lyrics :
A car came after the rain, passing through the pale dusk.
The old iron plate is heading south, and the lover is no longer there.
Listen to Poetry Radio Under the Smoke.
An emotionless cough, at least it seems.
The journey home is still lovely, but the strings have lost their posture.
I will never see the child listening to the song that night again.
Time monologues in a hurry, grinding the chaos into a cassette.
The tired feelings are broken into pieces.
Just grow old and don’t wake up lonely.
The departure you long for is just nowhere to stop.
Just sing, eyes narrowed.
And the collapse of hot tears is just an existence that has not arrived.
Youth is drunk again, in the arms of the unknown.
Rely on laughter to waste time, gather and disperse generously.
I tossed and turned but couldn’t get to the right platform.
If wandering is a sign of growth, it must be passed.
You wake up the barren future in the years.
Like the unfruitful love in the season of regret.
Stained every page of poetry, kissing the most painful confession.
When the wind blows here, there is no need to let go.
Just grow old and don’t wake up lonely.
The departure you long for is just nowhere to stop.
Just sing, eyes narrowed.
And the collapse of hot tears is just an existence that has not arrived.
Just endure sweetly, and the stars moisten the windowsill.
The light and shadow are beating like they are talking about love in sleepiness.
No matter how pointlessly sighing, I thought I understood.
The place where the dream collapsed is now covered with moss.
Extended information:
As far as the song is concerned, the light guitar playing is soothing and repetitive, but it is full of rhythm. The lyrics are very beautiful and can tell a beautiful love story. Maybe everyone will have an unforgettable love in youth, but in the end they will sadly let go. When the years have passed, the afternoon sun shines on the desk, warm Yes, a cup of coffee, full of water, and then picking up the dusty guitar, it is the tenderness of love.
Overnight, some stories became memories. When I look back suddenly, how can I face the you I once liked? You have come, walked, and loved, and it’s time for me to wake up. The story is like the rustling autumn wind blowing across the young cheeks, scratching, and the young man has grown old. I didn’t think I could survive this cold winter, but I saw spring peaches, summer lotuses, autumn chrysanthemums and winter plums.
After another year, I no longer miss it. When you put down this cup of coffee, and with these thirty years, you squint your eyes filled with time and expect everything to grow old, the loneliness will fall asleep.