This package includes:
Version 1 03:20Version 2 03:20

The window sill jasmine opens again, the swing rusts, the shirt closet bottom. Time wipes away fingerprints and dyed white hair. I can’t take the agreement with me. I wait for memories, leaving only endless silence. The windowsill lamp throws diamond-shaped light spots, the old guitar strings are loose, and I count the cracks in the wall skin. The drawer locks the faded envelopes, the midnight plucking the strings to tell the heart, the moonlight knows how to choke but does not tell tomorrow, the melody circles the unsent questions, and the secrets dry up with the dew when the morning fog rises. Words Huang Junhua Song Author Huang Junhua Singer Huang Junhua Words JunHua Huang Song Author JunHua Huang Song Author JunHua Huang Song Lyrics: The desk lamp cast diamond-shaped light spots on the windowsill, the third string of the old guitar slightly relaxed, I counted the cracks peeling off the wall skin, like counting the dusk that did not speak, the faded envelope was locked in the drawer, the tip of the pen was still frozen in the midnight blue, and the cocoon, twisting, the moonlight will understand my choking, but it will not tell tomorrow that the melody is a silent annual ring, encircling all unsent questions. The tea stains spread to light brown on the bottom of the cup, like the outline when you turned around that year. The wind passed through the half-open window lattice and swept away the unfinished if,