Luyện nghe bài hát All Her Favorite Fruit

I alone, home from work
And I always of her
at night I call her
But I never say a
And I can see her the phone between her chin and shoulder
And I can almost smell her breath faint with a sweet scent of
She serves him mashed
And she him peppered steak, with corn
her dress up over her head
Lets it to the floor
And she ever whisper in his ear all her favorite fruit
And all the most exotic places are cultivated
And I'd like to take her there, rather than this
And if I weren't a servant, I'd have a place in the colonies
We'd croquet behind white-washed walls and drink our tea at four
Within intervention's of the embassy
The air grows thicker with the heat
And towards the line of trees
When blink their eyes, they sink into siesta
And we are rotting like a fruit underneath a rusting
We our dreams and sing our songs of the fecundity
Of and love
Of life and
Of and love