But she forgot her way back,
and never came back
I still miss the three-year-old girl,
crying by my side
We used to play together in the evening
She left this house,
and never sent a letter
I miss
her thoroughly
foreign
When the moonlight is far away,
the graduation stage is cold.
The mostly brother-sister style is melancholy.
I'm not a man.
I'm not a man.
