Luyện nghe bài hát Classic Arts Showcase

White of the TV set
Lights on the screen
rise like minarets
Then diatonically
Should I answer a friend's call
Or I go to sleep?
Would I, like the rise and fall,
it to me?

All those of wasted time
Have crossed my mind

Here I am
In arm's of the black remote
Here I am
by strings and bows
Let else go

on Kirkwood so serene
Far from the and the screams
I could write or I read
Go next door and smoke weed
As as I don't have to think
About who the hell's running mess
Or what shit writing up in the Stone or NME
Go out and make a last
Or sit and do nothing at all
it to me?

All those hours of wasted
Have never my mind

I am comfortable
In arm's reach of the remote
I am comfortable
All those clowns, what can they
Let everyone go