mop(q:68748942)
Male:
The light is coming through on the keys of the piano
The stained-glass windows
decorated with Gothic churches
Whoever plays a piece of
A piece of wandering sadness
Seeing in the direction of the piano, we see
Rosebuds clinging to an 18th century painting
Looking on
Silently admiring
Thinking
Your romance
Looking at
Whether it's the same for long
A a fu shou
A a fu shou
Yap so so sorry
Sorry
So sorry
So sorry
Sorry
Sorry
Sorry
So sorry. sorry
so so so
moderato
andantino
portmento
fortissimo
The thief he steals
The abbot says no
And the dream wakes up on me
And everything is No
Ellen Choi:
I was standing in Prague's twilight square
Casting my hopes in the wishing fountain
The flock of doves had their backs to the setting sun
The image was too beautiful to look at
Prague's square's unoccupied corridors
I was dancing and twirling alone
Not far from here, you sang from afar.
You really can't get used to it without me
Man:
The light
The stained glass windows
Decorating the Gothic churches
Whoever plays a piece
A piece of wandering sorrow
Following the sound of the piano, I can see
Roses clinging to the eighteenth-century canvasses
And I can see the roses on the side
There's no one else in the city, but I've got to go. I'm looking at it
At the side
Taking in the scene
Wondering
Your romance
Looking at it
Whether it's the same for long
a a fu shou
a a fu shou
Yap so so sorry
So so so
Moderato
The music of the piano, the music of the piano, and the music of the piano, the music of the piano, the music of the piano, the music of the piano. moderato
andantino
portmento
fortissimo
The thief he stole
The monk said no
I woke up from a dream
All was gone
Ellen Tsai:
I stood in the Prague's twilight square
Casting my hopes at the wishing fountain
The doves with their backs to the setting sun
The image was too beautiful to look at
Prague's square's deserted corridors
I'm dancing and spinning alone
Not far away from the place where you sing from afar
You're really not used to not having me
In the Prague's square at dusk
Casting hopes at the wishing fountain
The doves with their backs to the setting sun
It's too beautiful to look at it
Prague's square crowded with theaters
A quiet alleyway and a cafe
I'm checking out and you're making gumbo
It's the last word in storytelling