I don't know what song I'm singing anymore.
Just try my best to shout out the lyrics. Carefree and worry-free.
This is a kind of venting, only I know.
The song has reached its climax.
I gripped the microphone tightly with both hands and leaned down. Close your eyes tightly. Prick up your ears.
Here I come...
I used all my strength and shouted loudly into the microphone:
Ideal, how old are you this year
You always tempt young friends
You always thank me and then surprise me
It plunged me into a life of disappointment again
…”
Then, tears welled up in my eyes.
