渴望拖出那疲惫的身躯，
那渴望中的旧窗帘依然有那熟悉的味道。
空灵的冰冷的身躯还躺在那刺骨的地板上。
白墙，
那灰黄色的老窗帘，
熟悉的歌谣，
一直吸着的香烟。
没有什么语言看起来更伟大了。
日子一天一天的循环反复，
我转过身来却没有让它在回头。
因为我不需要它而他们却需要我。
Desire towing tired body,
the desire to old curtains are covered with a familiar scent.
Empty icy bodies lying on the cold floor.
White walls,
the curtains Hui Huangse old,
familiar songs,
the smoke still sorption.
No language seems to be great
Days and the like in rotation,
which I turn around I did not turn it around.
Because I do not need it,
but they need me
