It was you who gave me an umbrella to support the pouring loneliness, so I really want to send you a bend on the bank of the river, wash away the regrets that corrode my heart, give you all my warmth, take off the only wind-blocking clothes, miss the back and tremble, and my eyes are still lit for you. I have been chasing the footprints of your mood. I am misunderstood by all people to understand you. I am ready to be a floating cloud that polishes your sky, but you are waiting for me at the end. There are raindrops in my smile. I am willing to fulfil your treasured past. I just want you to find the passion that makes you look like you, and then drag yourself to the mountain city to seclude, but you wait for me at the end and live in your heart. Without you, the place is a foreign country, and the travel without you is wandering. Those twists and turns and sentimentality are all wings to fly on your shoulders.