安装 Steam
登录
|
语言
繁體中文(繁体中文)
日本語(日语)
한국어(韩语)
ไทย(泰语)
български(保加利亚语)
Čeština(捷克语)
Dansk(丹麦语)
Deutsch(德语)
English(英语)
Español-España(西班牙语 - 西班牙)
Español - Latinoamérica(西班牙语 - 拉丁美洲)
Ελληνικά(希腊语)
Français(法语)
Italiano(意大利语)
Bahasa Indonesia(印度尼西亚语)
Magyar(匈牙利语)
Nederlands(荷兰语)
Norsk(挪威语)
Polski(波兰语)
Português(葡萄牙语 - 葡萄牙)
Português-Brasil(葡萄牙语 - 巴西)
Română(罗马尼亚语)
Русский(俄语)
Suomi(芬兰语)
Svenska(瑞典语)
Türkçe(土耳其语)
Tiếng Việt(越南语)
Українська(乌克兰语)
报告翻译问题
Like a worn out recording of a favorite song
So while she lay there sleepin' I read the paper in bed
And in the personal columns, there was this letter I read
If you like piña coladas and getting caught in the rain
If you're not into yoga, if you have half a brain
If you like making love at midnight in the dunes of the cape
Then I'm the love that you've looked for, write to me and escape
I didn't think about my lady, I know that sounds kind of mean
But me and my old lady had fallen into the same old dull routine
So I wrote to the paper, took out a personal ad
And though I'm nobody's poet, I thought it wasn't half bad