[00:14.390]I was on the back of a nightingale, living like a king
[00:26.680]Listening to the songs that you’d sing.
[00:44.630]Home fires were burning and the smoke stung our eyes
[00:50.060]We were blind from birth, until that night.
[01:19.100]Love grows old and we die younger each time.
[01:43.730]Heaven loves a martyr，
[01:50.500]And how am I supposed to run with my legs sunk in the mud?
[02:04.590]I wish I had grown up a little longer，
[02:18.270]And if we’d flown south, we’d have a home at least for now
[02:32.900]Love grows old and I lived like a king