In the autumn,I listen to the sound of the sunAnd the leaves rustling in the riverI hear my name in the end of the corridorI hear this man die in the yellow autumnI look at the autumn leavesMy hands are sad, I feel sorryI hear the cold wind at nightI'm a soldier.I'm a soldier.I'm a soldier.I'm a soldier.I'm a soldier.I'm a soldier.Thi mộng nhạt phaiThi mộng nhạt phaiYes with her.
