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The name of a song at the dance.
Title: Farewell to Cambridge

Album: playing

Singer; she

Horseshoe stepped on the narrow alley of slate street, and someone was praying.

After the rain, the church dumped the stream of consciousness at a 40-degree angle.

Half a stone carving stood in front of the library, and sixpence took a sketch.

The fireplace spits out flames all day long, and the years are not disturbed by kerosene lamps.

You are lonely in Cambridge, wearing a black robe, and you sing the rhythm of love and beauty with poetry.

A boat full of stars witnessed the classical embrace, and the aquatic plants still miss the chrysanthemum you supported.

You spent half your life alone in Cambridge, wearing a China robe. You bid farewell to love with a poem and gambled on the rhyme of despair.

Whose sleeve took away the clouds to leave Xiao Sheng, silent as mourning.

Wisteria twines around weeping willows on both sides of the red brick wall, shaking the morning light.

Nostalgic organ lost folk songs began to grow old in the Middle Ages.

Pigeons in the square look up at the sky, think of Gothic minarets and outline the lines of eschatology.

The story flows through the bridge of sighs of the sunset, and the poet's love is still singing an aria.

You are lonely in Cambridge, wearing a black robe, and you sing the rhythm of love and beauty with poetry.

A boat full of stars witnessed the classical embrace, and the aquatic plants still miss the chrysanthemum you supported.

You spent half your life alone in Cambridge, wearing a China robe. You bid farewell to love with a poem and gambled on the rhyme of despair.

Whose sleeve took away the clouds to leave Xiao Sheng, silent as mourning.

You are lonely in Cambridge, wearing a black robe, and you sing the rhythm of love and beauty with poetry.

A boat full of stars witnessed the classical embrace, and the aquatic plants still miss the chrysanthemum you supported.

You spent half your life alone in Cambridge, wearing a China robe. You bid farewell to love with a poem and gambled on the rhyme of despair.

Whose sleeve took away the clouds to leave Xiao Sheng, silent as mourning.