Luyện nghe bài hát Circus Type Thing

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Bắt đầu làm bài nào

Full of this stuff, waiting for a sign.
Watching the years I am watching... the die.
The within holding on by string,
Still I'm all hearing this circus type thing.
So ask what I think, I'll you I think that it's frightening.
All of places to dance and yet we are still.
A weightless improbable force has to enlighten,
But why should we listen if there's in it to kill?
Often I'm hearing these my friend.
You're never quite the sounds,
But for the voices.
These sweet little voices, follow me all the way down.
It that we dream hard for peaches and cream and their sweetness.
If we are we eat then why are we not sweet ourselves?
And where's this Arcadian gateway loved by Pandora?
Did she our demise or be true to the nature of self?
Often I'm by goat-footed friend
And I see him in you
as a song he campaigns for the end.
But a few were for the truth.
A few were for the truth.
I'm finding no comforting words from the priest, But found that each season can sing.
If she'd survived beyond winter she seen the spring,
To see that we all make this type thing.