－＝　爱比尔　＝－

用女人自以为准确的直觉

断定另一端的你 其实是在犹豫不决

没有海啸那般侵略的幻觉

只是海风仍吹着 你留下的斑驳风雪

暗色的外套 套不住 心理的胡闹

泪水的味道 飘溢着 讽刺得可笑

早已经知道 我永远 都不比她好

最后的拥抱 却抱不住 自己想要得依靠

如果能回头

也许我们都不该向右走

也许我们比较容易放手

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