There is a voice, rolling in my heart.
There is a voice, spinning in my ear.
There is a yearning, in the crazy entanglement.
Have a dream. Gesanghua on the plateau.
Do you reflect grandma's smiling face, the mellow highland barley wine, have you ever drunk my Aba?
I want to be an eagle and fly to white clouds and blue sky.
I want to be an eagle and fly to my other home.
I have a longing in my heart.
There is a yearning that gives me wings.
There is a force pushing me upward.
There is a spirit that makes me feel high.
Is the song of the plateau still ethereal and long?
Whether the snow tap dancing is still so enthusiastic and unrestrained.
I want to be an eagle and fly over Qian Shan.
I turned into an eagle and flew to Lhasa, which I yearned for.
I want to be an eagle and fly over Qian Shan.
I would like to turn into an eagle and fly to Lhasa, which I yearn for.
Wait, wait, wait.
Fly to Lhasa. Huo Laowu plagiarized