Luyện nghe bài hát Closer To You

And maybe you're the Circle Line
so hard not to let on you know
I'm looking at the way toes poke out through your sandals
at funny angles to feet
and how you it turns me on

Or you're the Spanish girl
playing with your hair as you for your friend
in that wild octagon of mirrors the Tate calls a coffee
And I can smell hair from here
and I can see from eight different
the way your nipples look through that thin black top
to infinity
And oh God, it's places like that and purple-tipped like this
that's to hemorrhage me, girl

Ooo, it's
Girl, I'm only it to be closer to you

Or maybe you're the bay window
in Town, in ripped jeans and open Venetians
painting the difficult corner of an empty
white under a bulb
leaning across the bar at the top of stepladder
at the precise moment I'm on the steep street
at the of your garden in the gathering night
delight

Ooo, it's
Girl, I'm only it to be closer to you

Or you're the foundation painter
at the Central School, so fine-boned
I carry you home in your portfolio case
laced up so you won't cry out on the bus
and give the game
up lightly, because girl
how I knowingly injure someone
with your perfect lips and wrists, your exquisite
Oh, little painter, I can kiss eggshells, I can be ginger
all the say I'm such a sensitive singer

Ooo, true:
Girl, I'm doing it to be closer to you

And maybe you're listening to my now
on your or your bedsit Dansette
letting my songs slip into you on this quiet
in with your pads of and your fingers full of pencils
and low tar
And the light and pleasant so you hardly notice
what I'm about in "Paper Wraps Rock"
And "Murderers, the of Women,"
my voice is just a sound pleases you
that you and leaves you just the same
and that's how I it to stay, because, you know

Ooo, it's
Girl, I'm only doing it to be to you

But some of those were bitter
records which accuse women, girls you
of using your attractiveness wantonly and
to trap and to men
who wanted you and could have you
men who sometimes the perverse urge
to the women they desired the most
men who they despised all those immaculate visions
what adolescent crap, what kind of idiot would that?
Oh, not me because, you

Ooo, true:
Girl, I'm only it to be closer to you

But sometimes I think every man who writes
man who paints or composes, deep soul or symphonies
it makes no difference, all those men are only do with substitutes:
Solomon, Confucius, Franz
never have done it if they'd been as beautiful as you
sitting cross-legged there with gentle
lapping around a promise, where your thighs meet
of fertility a million artists couldn't with

Ooo, it's
Girl, I'm doing it to be closer to you

And all the time I see you
in the eye of my mind, and all cheap macho stuff
about de Sade and misogyny vanishes into air
and I'm moved to tears like any other sucker
who's been bruised by all the things that to be
and yet who's ready to fall on his knees
in of a woman, and say:
"Whatever you may do, you may be to me
the times we disagree, your ridiculous ambitions
your inhibitions
I want you to know that I you
I accept you and I you to accept me
I to kiss you, kiss your stockinged knee
accept the soft flesh
on the of your hips,"

Ooo, true:
Girl, I'm doing it to be closer to you

And when won you
when I've fallen down in of you, and said:
"Damn Franz Kafka, damn the White Duke
(damn the White Duke)
it's you and you alone I'm doing for,"
When I'm through with and pastiche
(throwing darts in eyes)
when you've let me love to you
the slowest, deepest way that I how
(when you do for me, baby)
and it so good (bear with me)
that's when I'll think of Paul Klee's
"Here lies the Paul Klee
closer than usual to the heart of creation
but far close enough,"

And girl, I lie
far from enough to you...