Luyện nghe bài hát Ceci N'est Pas Une Chanson

Some people think little should be seen and not heard, but I think HI
UP YOURS!

Ya is Bran Van giving a shout out to all the Paris suburbs.
All the hounds.
All the New hound dogs.
And the NDG, misguided.

It was the night New Years Eve.
I had a desire for doughnuts.
I dragged my ass to the city of Lavada where she drank from a Tim Horton
cup.
She said, aris smashed by the toilet, crack pot smoked holiday,I tried
desperately to avoid it but that when she looked my ways.

Say to your sorry-ass ways.
Say to your sorry-ass ways.

She the place where your standing is not even place not for music not even
song.
And the sadness you see from deep within me, has been your sadness all
along.
So don pretend to be so perfect, I quite in my traveling gear.
What you see is not a coffee girl, despite of the fact that I not even
here.

It just a foxfire.

HI UP YOURS!

And the snow fell like crushed aspirin on that holiday.
She looked me like a crooked lawyer; hung over as the one he played.
So don pretend to be like you are with me because I am, thinking there is
no struggle coming up from the bubble, 'cause there is no struggle in sorry
ass ways.
Oh, say good-bye.
Oh, say good-bye.
Ah, say to your sorry-ass ways.
Ah, say good-bye to your ways.

I mean where are troubles; yal know to do.
money 'cause I in love with you.
I mean I worth enough yal know what to do.
Spells just like the romance, smells go to you.

fly