Shanghai one thousand nine hundred forty-three

 Sui Ping
faintly visible in the words I have not returned the old home rice
grandfather write a regular script filled with gold Ge

carved doors and windows covered with slanting sun reflected
In the mottled brick walls
I have not returned to the old home rice
Grandpa used to write a regular script full of black and white photographs and I faced


father and mother begin to imagine the appearance of the year
saying a mouthful of soft speaking girl
Bund walked slowly disappeared

old days
one thousand nine hundred forty-three

memory lane in time has become very slow < br> small alleys
old folks are white walls and black tiles that era

sadness of the disappearance of the old days
one thousand nine hundred forty-three
look back at some of the fragments
Weathered old record players, old suitcases

tin filled with postcards hidden in a rose petal in


words: Vincent Fang Music: Jay
lrc produced by william prince < br>
gold carved doors and windows covered with Ge
slanting sun reflected in the mottled brick walls
I have not returned to the old home rice
grandfather brewed bean paste then
< br> I am facing the black and white photographs
father and mother begin to imagine the appearance of the year
said a mouthful of soft speaking girl


slowly disappeared through the Bund old days
one thousand nine hundred forty-three
memories of the way in time become very slow

small alleys
old folks are white walls and black tiles that 's a touch of sadness
disappearance of the old

one thousand nine hundred forty-three
time to look back there are some fragments of weathered

old record players, old suitcase full of postcards

hidden in a tin in rose petals.