My voice is stuck in my throat.
I can't speak a lot.
Even if I shout it out,
no one in this world can understand it.
I want to go to sea,
to moisten my dying voice,
to restore my innocence when I was born,
to look at the hypocrisy and ugliness of this world coldly.
I want to go out to sea.
Leaving this place makes me depend on it, makes me attached to it,
but it also restricts my thoughts.
Even when I am awake, I can only wander around.
I want to go to sea,
Let nature decide the survival of freedom,
If there should be no dark rebellion in this world,
Let the sea devour my body and soul.
I want to go to sea.
The dim mainland makes me restless.
Singing with a clear mind is just a nervous commotion that is almost crazy in the eyes of the world.
My throat is still too dry,
The concentration of secular salt in the sea is too high,
I still can't speak the so-called human words,
Helpless:
There is no purity in this world for me to travel.