Your sunset, my face, whose third year.

The dancing of the pen tip is the strongest touch of brilliant red in the spotlight.

I watched the sunset at the seaside and snuggled up on a pillow, but I couldn't swim out of memories, but I couldn't learn to let go and walk.

Burn a mirage with matches and let yourself escape from the heavy rain.

6 hide in the doomed street and walk through the water under the bridge with a smile.

7 whose scenery and heart the city injured under the eyelashes passes by.

In the light silence, you opened a shopping shop and waited for the forgotten cape skylight.

The witch's kiss spell came for the first time, and the wet oath faded. I sat on the sea mending the net, and you fell on the bottom of the sea to sing the song of Dai Yue.

10 Wait for a person or a story.

1 1 Swim across a world, a life and death.

Who did you sing the end of that song about us to?

13 whose city is that gorgeous love line intertwined with laughter in your hand?

14 Write love as an immortal legend of Enemy at the Gates. Then, will you cross the ice and snow?

15 carved our story on the weathered gable, and passers-by cried when they saw it.

16 who are you? A teenager who misses your pen tip turns into a song on the desolate road of the city.

17 It takes a thousand years to love you and ten thousand years to forget.

18 Who has a scarlet mole in the corner of his eye to complete your prosperous life, and whose mountains and rivers have given you ground-breaking empty joy.

19 Love song in the next life, leave the words for you to fill in, depending on who you are.

The dazzling array of things in the window is full of life.

2 1 That love song is about romantic love, but it has nothing to do with you and me.

A player enters a painting and spends his life in the world.

As beautiful as flowers and jade, the enemy can't pass the time.

Did anyone collect the passing scenery for you?

25. I am in the memory of flying snow all over the sky, but in which dictionary do you interpret the transformation?

Draw a life-and-death game and write an ending for our story.

Irish snow, Turkish blue, Moscow tears. I collect them in the small sun, sunny days and smiles. Persian Gulf Sea, Vienna Hall, Arabian Legend. I wrote them down in a thick photo album. And seven powders and the princess.

28 perfect hiding sadness.

For whom to sing farewell songs, for whom to love, for whom to write the world.

Who smiles and pretends not to be sad?