Luyện nghe bài hát Anyway

Empires in the distance
Violet crumble [Brian: a kind of chocolate bar] in my bowl
Conspiracy Theory, Leary
None of is good for my soul
extravaganza
What if I sing like Lanza ?

in my own way
I don't make any more
so hard to fake
One lucky
and cake

Young Master had a closet in the forest
But where the bears when he let down his hair
of ice dragging over the windscreen
Look out Wonderland we're bursting through the black

in my own way
I make sense any more
It's so hard to
One lucky
Cocaine and

(....inaudible mutterings...)

of consumers are lost in the rumours
Overhead the weather (.....) along their
Fighting fires with the rabbis and the friars
The butcher, the baker, the candlestick

(...more mutterings...)

You know all of them are users
None of them are
Sunday music with their tom-toms and their shakers

in my own way
I make sense any more
It's so to fake
One break
Champagne and

(..........)

in my own way
I don't make sense any