Snow is falling down
　　Night is bright
　　The strange panorama is passing before me
　　Passersby, where are you going?
　　The rich, the poor
　　The man, the women
　　The old, the young
　　The beauty, the ugly
　　What are you thinking?
　　Sadly or happily
　　What are you doing?
　　All of you are mysteries
　　I am watching them
　　Everyone has his own story
　　Has a history in their life
　　A large number of passersby
　　We are in the bright colorful neon light
　　In the snowy night
　　
　　
　　Yes I’m going home
　　I must hurry home
　　Where your life goes on
　　So I’m going home
　　Going home alone
　　And your life goes on