I want beyond to translate the lyrics into Cantonese.

Eating apples, sweating, screaming, peeling apples, surfing, chatting, floating in the forest nest, getting drunk, catching up with Murray, leaving, listening to the empty Buddha and drinking with a guest.

Take an extra breath to greet the wolf smoke and laugh early. Never put a black voice on the forest mine. Sana 'a is on guard against the moon. "Dried Fruit in the Sand" is better than the love in "With a Stem".

The traffic volume promised to pick up, and the monk gave indulgence to love the engine oil. I'm afraid that one day my father will talk. Oh, no, I was blacked out by the monk who left the thunder. Then why should I be afraid?

Copies of existing records, I always go to relatives of guests.