吉他手/ 左宅&麥倫考利
貝斯/ 方舟
鼓手/ 鴿子
風格/ 後朋，噪音，自賞
It's a winter morning you saty in a cage .
As the shadow follows the form of headache.
Do you feel confused？ “Where is my Golden age？”
“How could you leave me behind? What is the answer？”
I can see your face in the television.
There is no little toy soldiers in your hands.
“Teacher，teacher，Tell me，Where am I？”
“I dont want to give you a normal life.”
There is a color colored dice you really like it .
You can choice another another life，but its another suicide.
There is your golden golden lines without my mercy，I feel good.
I don't want to cure him，But its my heart' s lies.
When I was young,One day I met a lady,
I said：“How can I according to the clues to find your location？”
Well，the lady give me a fish，and cut its head，
she tell me：“It is your Gold.”
Golden Age