phongike:
I gave my love to the wind, the wind laughed mockingly I gave it to the moon, the moon set. I brought it and gave it to her, she finished watching and pouted to say it was too old. Finally I gave it to me, I told myself it was still new.
phongike:
Give it back to me! Give me back my soul! Don't plant nostalgia in your heart anymore! I am so drunk that my lips are soft. Where is my soul lying? Perhaps it is lying on your doorstep.
