Ordinary days sometimes have some sadness
I suddenly think of a time when I was young
Maybe this is just a kind of inexplicable melancholy
Maybe I'm growing up
The busy work occasionally also has some hesitation
The ideal of childhood has never been forgotten
Perhaps this is just a kind of confusion in the transitional period
Maybe we should think about it
In fact, this kind of life is barely enough
I just want to sing to my heart's content
In fact, this kind of life is not desolate
Only hope to fly freely
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