我时常把自己的手掌伸在琉璃窗前，让阳光散懒的穿过。
仿佛可以看到每一个指尖都轻浮着少年时的青春，随着日落萎成墨色的残骸。
那是我曾经不经意脱下的岁月，混淆在时光里就那样变成了梦醒枕边的寂寞。
它们是暗紫色卑微的手印，上面残留着回忆的指纹。
I often put his hand stretched, let sunshine in coloured glaze window scattered lazy to go through. As if can
To see each finger are frivolous when teenagers of youth, along with the sunset into inky withering
The wreck. That"s I once casual time, off in time so confused into
The pillow we wake up loneliness.
They are dark purple humble handprint, it remains a recall of the fingerprint.
我披着冷夜的青衫如一位在星辰下流浪的少年
北风中荡着满是散的旧的语言
烟支浮落空影的轻尘是几时的乱红磕绊的缠绵
而过往的掌心中藏着多少再见
I QingShan covered with cold night in as a stray teenager. Under the stars
The north wind rootless is full of scattered in the old language
Collect the light shadow floating dust is frustrated the disorderly red how stumble lingering
And past palm how many goodbye shading
眼泪在哪个街头脱壳成了茧
轮回转逝了时光却转到起点
我带着旧的遗忘 与你遇见
Tears in which street became the cocoon shell
Rebirth died but turn to start time turn
I took my old forgetfulness and you meet
当你独自面对一间房，一扇窗。这样安宁的声音。
你会伸向墙壁，然而迷茫穿越。离开这里吗。
When you are alone in a room, a window. So quiet voice.
You will reach walls, however confusion through. Out of here。
我站在逆光里
去看这整个世界
风被吹斜在那头
这一头是荒芜的海市蜃楼
I stood in the backlight
To see the whole world
The wind blown leaning on the head
This one is desert mirage