Luyện nghe bài hát Arianne

Arianne's an morning
comes rippling through my window
She's the of coffee brewing
On a quiet Sunday

And the purring of a
That has my neck a pillow for its head

the silly music
That my father to whistle
the new leaf on the fern
That I had up last winter

And what writers have to feel
When they suddenly discover they've been

Arianne is crystal
Bread nearly finished baking
And the in a puddle
And the happiest of

Then the going off on
And the coming back on Monday a tan

is made of feeling
So I her of her kisses
And I swallow up her
And I taste her where she me

And I'm filled,
But there's always room for more of

Arianne is Mama's
that's nearly finished baking
And the in a puddle
And the of birthdays

And the off on Friday
And the back on Monday with a tan

Arianne is made of
So I her of her kisses
And I swallow up her
And I taste her she loves me

And I'm filled,
But there's always for more of Arianne