這份愛很醜陋
它不是蠟燭 而是香煙
香煙是無法成長的
燃燒掉渴望 慾望 沉寂 以及邪惡
多數時候我們依然感恩
於是讓房間用煙霧染上直至飽和
還以為身體早已被填滿了
順便喪狂了心智
但當一切消失 我們的愛
被想像的懦弱 誠摯的形狀
甚至那一點點的命運 掏空了
一切變得憂傷時
她能承受
而最終他們總是會離開
殘餘了回憶
回憶卻僅是那根
隨意丟棄在柏油路上的煙蒂
Cigarette
The love is hideous
It is not even a candle
It is a cigarette ,growth is incapable
Burn desirable ,craving ,silent ,wicked
Mostly ungrateful
We paint the room with smoke
Thought our bodies are fulfilled
Insanity mental
But when it vanished, our love is taken
By imaginary craven, Sincerely shape
And a little bit smell of fate
She could handle when it gets sad
Eventually ,they both left
Memories ,
are just the butt of that cigarette
