Luyện nghe bài hát At Last

He was a songwriter, writing songs a girl.
She was a ghostwriter, to the world.

And in anticipation,
of a day that she had
and by her own she'd
be up, kissed, and twirled.

He was a boy, watchful of the earth, worried that it might split apart and he wouldn't hear it first.
And he'd be caught in some position, like a broken old physician, and of all he feared that it would hurt.

He's pouring his heart out, is nothing gonna come of that? So can he finally say, at last, at last, at last, at last,
oh i you'd never ask.

Oh, 700 letters, she cataloged all.
them and numbered them, and then hid them down below.

She would always keep them, once a she'd read them, each time she'd be thinking, somehow, he must know.

She's pouring her heart out, is nothing gonna of that? So when can she finally say, at last, at last, at last, at last, oh i thought you'd never ask.

Outside of his apartment, the night was blanketed in mist, she stood looking up at his and thinking what it meant.
It that he was in there breathing, what was it he was thinking? It was of her she wished she wished.

They're pouring their hearts out, is nothing gonna come of that? So can they finally say, at last, at last, at last, at last, oh I thought you'd never ask

At last, at last, at last, at last,
Oh I you'd never ask.