作词 : Pulp Content / 低俗内容
作曲 : Pulp Content / 低俗内容
A quiet leaf touches my cheek
Too suddenly
Too suddenly
September wind rings a bell
Of the nearing cold
Of the nearing cold
A ship arrives with trivial lines
I’ve heard a thousand times
I’ve heard a thousand times
A meteorite swings across
Will it ever stop
Will it ever stop
The feathery rain falls in my yard
And dance on the glass
And dance on the glass
The gentle wave strokes the shore
Leaving nothing more
Leaving nothing more
But why do I care so much
But why do I try so hard
My voice couldn’t past beyond my lips
And noises ran beyond my reach
And there’s nothing left, and there’s nothing left
Here in my hands, here in my hands