Luyện nghe bài hát Angel

Show me worse
Than a child a church
with a cardboard box
In a heartless town that and mocks
And on a chair
I sit down and cry
And close my

the Christmas windows
Here in Christmas
A girl rests her tattered head
And the festive shine down

And if she were a
Someone would her home
But no pity for our own kind
Our hearts are
Our eyes are

me something more
Than the at the door
All the in the cold
To keep the from the fold

me something more
Than the an honest turned thief or wore
Under African sun or Dublin
remain the same

On the roof the old shed
The moon its pale head
a woman on a screen
Who saw same things she'd seen
And on a chair in a
She sat down and
And close her

Show me something
Than the at the door
All the in the cold
To keep the wolf the fold

me something more
Than the an honest girl turned or wore
African sun or Dublin rain
Necessities the same