The lyrics of Hetu's three generations

Lovesickness in Lingding Jiuquan

Who knows lonely hundred years

Looking back at the two

How to recall how to be crazy

The lovers who once loved each other are all running in the empty city

Once the scars will become rings

Once naive eyes will have no time to recognize

Once sincere tone touched whose heart is true

Once vivid lips now have no doubt

Once silent trust in the suspicion of faltering

The blade that once quenched blood can't break chaos

Once the same stability withered in the dust before turning

Another kind of dream come true

Missed several times and finally opened the door

Kisses the flowers, the dew kisses the blade

I'm going to finish the play with three generations

All the deep feeling, resentment, laughter and tears

Go and admit it

Late night and early morning in spring, summer, autumn and winter

To survive

All despicable, cruel, kind and self respecting

It all comes from the soul

You don't need palmprint to confirm who you love

Don't you worry? ]

I'll never fight you in my life. ]

I once stopped singing and looked far away at the dusk

I used to stay in the night and commit suicide in the story

Once the ups and downs of the road can not turn back to the fate of gear

Once we met, we separated from each other, besieged like the past

For a dream of meaning to come true

Missed several times and finally opened the door

Kisses the flowers, the dew kisses the blade

I'm going to finish the play with three generations

All the deep feeling, resentment, laughter and tears

Go and admit it

Late night and early morning in spring, summer, autumn and winter

To survive

All despicable, cruel, kind and self respecting

It all comes from the soul

You don't need palmprint to confirm who you love

All the old, young, ugly and simple

There's no place to go

Pretending to be warm and sleepless

Burn all the cold

And it's hotter than the stars

There are always people who are desperate to sink in the legend

There are always strangers

Listen to the story of the past

All the joys and sorrows are not over paid with the storyteller in the end