laitimes

I want to give up, but I don't give up; I want to forget, but I can't

When there is a faint sadness between the fingers, when tenderness becomes a deep concern, when hope turns into disappointment, a thousand tastes soar in the heart. There is always some love, bursting intoxicating, there is always some emotional flow that makes people feel broken, like fireworks, brilliant but short-lived.

I want to give up, but I don't give up; I want to forget, but I can't

Even if only a full of sores remains, I will cling to it, no matter how painful it is, I must be strong, and no matter how bitter it is, I must persist. I don't want to forget, and I don't want the truth, because what I want is with you forever. The cold wind rises and falls on the ground. Looking back on the watery encounter with you, recalling your magnificent vows, thoughts touched the fingertips, and clear tears followed the memory to the end of the red dust.

I want to give up, but I don't give up; I want to forget, but I can't

The reunion is hurriedly short, the acacia is long, and the tears are wet and the clothes are known. Red dust rolls in, painting alone. What is painted is love, but what is drunk is sighing. Your and my emotions are like a messy thread, which can be seen clearly, but cannot be understood. Waiting, struggling in helplessness, missing, sinking in the moonlight.

I want to give up, but I don't give up; I want to forget, but I can't

I want to give up, but I don't give up; I want to forget, but I can't. Everything is so powerless. Exit, for those undeterred times; frozen, is written for the end of this winter. I don't want you to see my tears, I don't want you to know my heart. I just want to bring a lifetime of style and bloom for you; seal a lifetime of fragrance, only for you to shine incense.

I want to give up, but I don't give up; I want to forget, but I can't

Looking at the brilliant starry sky, blocking your own sorrow and joy, as long as you can be all right in your concern, even if you are lonely for a lifetime, I am willing. I have messed up my soul for you, and I have exhausted my life's strength to draw affection for you. All the hurts and pains, all that's left is the skin of memory. When the tide of sentimentality, the soft heart, the two lines of clear tears dripping...

I want to give up, but I don't give up; I want to forget, but I can't

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