Your poems are sung by me
The girl in Chang'an tower is still in the red tent
The banquets of the literati have long been over
They snub your laughter and your jokes
Let's have a jump, middle-aged man
The upward position just reaches the moonlight
You'd better have a red scarf and green sleeves to accompany you for a heroic night
It's better to have a pot of wine and a few moments of panic
Let's have a good cry, middle-aged man
Why come to the sultry south
Send a dusk that can bury you
In exchange for a jar of old wine you brought from the north
Lead your girl into a new era
The price of vegetables went up to three yuan a Jin
Often facing a neon on Danxia Road
Oh, oh. Say nothing
How much ambition is hard to pay, how much green silk becomes snow
It's not like the wind blowing the leaves of a book. Tea is light and wine is strong
How many singing and dancing buildings, how many grass luxuriant
It's better to have a few eyes and a cheering
Not to be happy again is like the end of a strong wind
I dare not say love is like withered grass to my lover
It's two thousand miles early tomorrow morning
Tonight's nagging half a depressed scholar
How to be reckless again is like the end of the wind
How to say love is like withered grass to lovers
It's two thousand miles early tomorrow morning
Don't come back to this enchanting world
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