The lyrics of Broken Words are sung by Vae

vae - broken language.

Begin! Words: Good night.

Arranger: Li Yijie (V.))

RAP: Xu Song (VAE).

It's 8:46 a.m. on April 11.

Today I'm going back to school and keep all the people in my memories and hide them.

I want to find a place to think about it and get rid of all my cowardice.

Everything that happens is packaged.

I want to be perfect for myself, where the sun is and where the warmth is.

In the end, you hold my hand, and your left hand holds your right hand.

There's nothing wrong with being considerate of others and smiling at them.

There's nothing wrong with the people who stay and miss me a lot.

Dense chat history on the computer.

It's all line by line that warms my touch.

Although I rarely speak, rarely reply, and rarely express emotion.

But this warmth always makes me want to cry when I am depressed.

I don't fight with anyone, and it's a waste of time to fight with anyone.

I can only sing my songs and taste the touches you give me.

I'm here, you're in**.

The coldness of thousands of miles north of the Qinling Mountains will also be broken by me.

I'm not a god, I'm not a saint, I'm not a good person.

I walked and watched humbly but firmly.

Singing is my way of expression.

Although some people say that I have no future.

But who can tell their future.

Wouldn't it be nice if we were happy and sang happily?

Broken words. Words: Good night.

Arranger: Li Yijie (V.))

rap : Xu Song.

It's 8:46 a.m. on April 11.

Today I'm going back to school, leaving all the people in my memories, trying to find a place to think, to get rid of all my cowardice, to pack up everything that happened.

I want to be perfect for myself, where the sun is and where the warmth is.

In the end, you hold my hand, and your left hand holds your right hand.

It's okay to think more about others and keep smiling at people, so that there is nothing wrong with the people who stay and miss me a lot.

Dense chat history on the computer.

It's all line by line that warms my touch.

Although I rarely speak, rarely reply, and rarely express emotion.

But this warmth always makes me want to cry when I am depressed.

I don't fight with anyone, and it's a waste of time to fight with anyone.

I can only sing my songs and taste the touches you give me.

I'm here, you're in**.

The coldness of thousands of miles north of the Qinling Mountains will also be broken by me.

I'm not a god, I'm not a saint, I'm not a good person.

I walked and watched humbly but firmly.

Singing is my way of expression.

Although some people say that I have no future.

But who can tell their future.

Wouldn't it be nice if we were happy and sang happily?

The sorrow of a sunny July 7 day is no match for the fragrance of Park 7.

Don't say goodbye dear today, listen to me sing quietly.

**Pure, love v absolutely.

Make a promise and never let go

It's 8:46 a.m. on April 11.

Today I'm going back to school and keep all the people in my memories and hide them.

I want to find a place to think about it and get rid of all my cowardice.

Everything that happens is packaged.

I want to be perfect for myself, where the sun is and where the warmth is.

In the end, you hold my hand, and your left hand holds your right hand.

There's nothing wrong with being considerate of others and smiling at them.

There's nothing wrong with the people who stay and miss me a lot.

Dense chat history on the computer.

It's all line by line that warms my touch.

Although I rarely speak, rarely reply, and rarely express emotion.

But this warmth always makes me want to cry when I am depressed.

I don't fight with anyone, and it's a waste of time to fight with anyone.

I can only sing my songs and taste the touches you give me.

I'm here, you're in**.

The coldness of thousands of miles north of the Qinling Mountains will also be broken by me.

I'm not a god, I'm not a saint, I'm not a good person.

I walked and watched humbly but firmly.

Singing is my way of expression.

Although some people say that I have no future.

But who can tell their future.

Wouldn't it be nice if we were happy and sang happily?

Broken words. VAE Xu Song - "Broken Words".

Lyricist. Composition. Arrangement. Singing Xu Song (vae).

Lyrics: It's 8:46 a.m. on April 11th.

Today I'm going back to school and keep all the people in my memories and hide them.

I want to find a place to think about it and get rid of all my cowardice.

Everything that happens is packaged.

I want to be perfect for myself, where the sun is and where the warmth is.

In the end, you hold my hand, and your left hand holds your right hand.

There is nothing wrong with thinking about others and smiling at people.

There's nothing wrong with the people who stay and miss me a lot.

Dense chat history on the computer.

It's all line by line that warms my touch.

Although the hail is hidden, I rarely speak, rarely reply, and rarely express emotion.

But this warmth always makes me want to cry when I am depressed.

I don't fight with anyone, and it's a waste of time to fight with anyone.

I can only sing my songs and taste the touches you give me.

I'm here, you're wanting.

The coldness of thousands of miles north of the Qinling Mountains will also be broken by me.

I'm not a god, I'm not a saint, I'm not a good person.

I walked and watched humbly but firmly.

Singing is my way of expression.

Although some people say that I have no future.

But who can tell their future.

Wouldn't it be nice if we were happy and sang happily?

The sorrow of a sunny July 7 day is no match for the fragrance of Park 7.

Don't say goodbye dear today, listen to me sing quietly.

Think more about others and keep smiling at people There's nothing wrong with this Bu Zhen The people who stay miss me a lot It's not bad The dense chat records on the computer are all lines and lines warm my touches Although I am very upright, I rarely speak, rarely reply, and rarely express my feelings, but this warmth always makes me want to cry when I am depressed.

It's 8:46 a.m. on April 11.

Today I'm going back to school, leaving all the people in my memories, trying to find a place to think, to get rid of all my cowardice, to pack up everything that happened.

I want to be perfect myself, the sun is there, the warmth is there.

In the end, you hold my hand, and your left hand holds your right hand.

It's okay to think more about others and keep smiling at people, so that there is nothing wrong with the people who stay and miss me a lot.

Dense chat history on the computer.

It's all line by line that warms my touch.

Although I rarely speak, rarely reply, and rarely express emotion.

But this warmth always makes me want to cry when I am depressed.

I don't fight with anyone, and it's a waste of time to fight with anyone.

I can only sing my songs and taste the touches you give me.

I'm here, you're in**.

The coldness of thousands of miles north of the Qinling Mountains will also be broken by me.

I'm not a god, I'm not a saint, I'm not a good person.

I walked and watched humbly but firmly.

Singing is my way of expression.

Although some people say that I have no future.

But who can tell their future.

Wouldn't it be nice if we were happy and sang happily?

The sorrow of a sunny July 7 day is no match for the fragrance of Park 7.

Don't say goodbye dear today, listen to me sing quietly.