两情若是长久时有岂在朝朝暮暮（A long time if the two conditions are not in every morning and evening）.docVIP

两情若是长久时有岂在朝朝暮暮（A long time if the two conditions are not in every morning and evening） Once the spring to Confidante old, flower falls news two know. Still waters run deep, Cang Sheng tage; three wanes, once grief at separation and joy in union. Star lights, voice Yao Yao, song far gone beacon. Ruhuameijuan, Youth passes as a fleeting wave., got back to the past, did not return. The clouds covered the moon, trace the vast, not so lonely. This time I left you, it was the wind, the rain, the night; you smiled, I waved, and a lonely road spread to both ends. Days are not old, love is difficult. Heart like double screen, there are thousands of nodes. Like the stars of night, for whom the Luli midnight. Ten years, life and death, two vast, do not consider, since the unforgettable, thousands of miles solitary grave, no place to be miserable. Butterflies are beautiful, but butterflies never fly. Finally for that a Jiangnan misty rain, covered the world, and let China Xie, but a scene, rivers and mountains forever silence. Elegance is a flow of sand, old is a period of time. 1, with my three fireworks, change your life blurred. 2, since I was young, time inclined negative. 3, The Strip long, fireworks fan, you stay back to see, Short Pavilion short, the world of mortals, I put zaitan xiao. 4, who is the end of the string broken, flowers fell on the shoulder, trance blurred 5, how many Confidante sad, how many Acacia broken, leaving only the bloody Angel cry mess. 6, the vast land to do pull broken sword, where bustling complains drop. Reclining cloud thousand pot cover lonely, even if others laugh at me. 7, he always Qingzhuo, a smile for you falling between the cycle of gan. 8, send you a song, ask Quzhong people gather. 9, who will smoke burning scattered, scattered in the vertical and horizontal. 10, listen to the broken strings, the three thousand are broken. Falling flowers lost, lost in the wind ripple. If the flowers are flowing, whose fingertips are they?. 11, hill