Firmly pull the village more selfless of the wandering heart.
Time flies, I Qinghuan, is there a place for me, wandering heart.
I cherish everyone who can make me call a friend, because that is where the wandering heart can stop.
The wandering heart is like the fallen leaves that float in the wind, telling the wishes of the millennium in the breeze.
In the hustle and bustle of the city, I hope to find a quiet harbor in the bustle of chaos, so that the long wandering heart can have a resting place.
Many times want to return to the real self, wandering heart wants to calm down to rest, all the way to find, all the way down, and also hurt all the way.
Words read your heart, as if writing yourself, that is also a kind of happiness. Although no one can really understand you, but you find yourself in the text, the words have retained your wandering heart, so that you find the peace of mind, that is happiness.
