傍晚6點鐘晚吞，夕陽已快要西下桥言。剛給某個女生說再見，一個人不開心的在北京華聯(lián)的廣場上葵礼，一邊咬著桃花甜筒一邊聽著從櫥窗里飄出來的歌号阿。風微涼，天空真藍啊鸳粉。突然間某首磁性的嗓音傳進傳進耳朵扔涧，我嘴里含著甜的要死的奶油混合物慢慢咽進肚里，卻不小心被某一兩句歌詞戳中心臟届谈。
What are words, If you really don't mean them,When you say them.
What are words, If they're only for good times, Then they don't.
When it's love, Yeah, you say them out-loud those words, They never go away, They live on, even when we're gone.
致那個早已經(jīng)忘記了向別人訴說什么的自己枯夜。
致那個好像看慣了世事風景心已堅硬猶如鐵石的自己。
致那個柔軟早已消失不見喜歡叫陶陶的自己艰山。
致那個將藏滿心事的箱子被密封在某個角落再不被打開的自己湖雹。
致那個上蒼賦予的天使，我想要好好守護在你身邊的自己曙搬。
致陶先生摔吏。
