It's really good,
Everything is so clear,
So real.
But,
I'm sorry,
I belong to the night.
Although the light is dark and not warm,
But you can smell the fragrance in the moonlight,
Walking in the building,
To feel the obscurity,
Touch that coolness
People who are busy during the day,
Never know the peace of the night.
The truth today,
There will never be dreams at night.
Have you ever felt the breeze in the mountains?
Have you ever touched delicate epiphyllum?
Have you ever heard the sound of insomnia?
Have you ever encountered a graceful haze?
This belongs to the night.
At night,
Strolling the streets,
You'll think the world is quiet,
It seems that all the noise is gone.
The journey may be lonely,
But there is always a street lamp ahead.
A neon light,
Navigation life,
Shining far, far away.
The beauty of the night,
It is the calmness after being busy.
It is the aftertaste after excitement.
Like Zhuang Zhou's dream butterfly,
Like a dream,
Not real, but it does exist.
I belong to the night,
I want to weave a picture with that dream,
It's covered with stars,
There is also a touch of sadness.
This is inner confusion,
It is also an unintentional obedience to the world.