Luyện nghe bài hát A Kinder Eye

In his widowed years of longing, in his windowed room of
He lay the oil upon the canvas, brought sweet memory to
His speckled a brush of color
His spotted hands both and speed
I was the boy who came with evening to sweep his floors and his tea

To the world he was the master, his landscapes filled the gallery
But now he painted only portraits, unframed his private walls
Subjects in playful flight or soft refrain
A thousand forms and but every face the same

the page the moving hand of history bleeds
(Across the ages)
For a eye to see us, not as we are but as we dream

A winter's night I arrived there, he looked so tired and near the end
And as I cleaned his and brushes, I wished out loud to be like him
He that art was only longing, trying to do what can't be done
And though he'd signed a thousand paintings, he'd never finished one

As I finished up my sweeping, in his sleep he her name
I looked again at all the portraits, each and every face the
Not as she was in pain or but in timeless beauty seen
As she served his dream

Across the page the moving hand of history
(Across the ages)
For a kinder eye to see us, not as we are but as we