明明可以掩饰的很好， 为什么又要潸然泪下，
It can be a good cover, why tears trickling down one's cheeks,
明明可以坚强的很好， 为什么又要失声痛哭。
It can be strong and good, why should I cry.
总是傻傻的在乎身边的一切，即使遍体鳞伤，
All I care about is always around, even if covered all over with cuts and bruises,
到了最后，回头望望，还有谁会站在我身后。
In the end, looked back, and who will stand behind me.
那些青春的动荡，与记忆一起被埋葬。
Those youth unrest, was buried together with the memory.
所有的结局都已写好，却忽然忘了是怎样的开始。
All outcomes have been written, but suddenly forgot how to start.
逐翻开那发黄的扉页，命运将它装订的极为拙略。
Gradually opened up the yellow pages, binding its fate to the very humble.
我一读再读，不得不承认，青春是本太仓促的书。
I read it again and again, had to admit, youth is a book too hasty.
你转身之后，我在自己的世界里静静体会孤独的样子。
You turn around, I feel lonely in my own world.
多希望，在我单人旅途的旅途的终点站，
Much hope, in my single journey of journey's end station,
遇到下一个你。
The next you.