Luyện nghe bài hát At Dave's

There were ways of knowing:
he stepped a yellow morning which seemed to him to be,
well, not but kind of a grayish maroon.
He couldn't figure out
he hadn't eaten in at least a week.

He stumble-crawled towards Dave's Luncheonette, climbed a booth.
He insisted on looking at the menu for six and thirty seven seconds every day
even though he always ordered and eggs, toast and coffee.
This morning, he also ordered water, but he drink any of it.

It was Thursday, April 20, 1967. He was for something to happen.
As he was eating, of the water evaporated,
some people were born, some were married, a star imploded, a of his was throwing up, two others were having sex.
As he finished his forkful of eggs, a fly sitting directly opposite from him, died.

He left Dave's, north.
much happened the rest of the day.
Had he it was Hitler's birthday, he would not have celebrated.