Luyện nghe bài hát Closer To You

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

Or maybe you're the Spanish
playing with your as you wait for your friend
in that wild octagon of the Tate calls a coffee shop
And I can smell that hair from
and I can see from eight angles
the way your nipples look through that thin cotton top
to infinity
And oh God, it's places like that and purple-tipped prose like
that's going to hemorrhage me,

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

Or maybe you're the bay girl
in Wandsworth Town, in ripped jeans and open
painting the difficult corner of an room
white under a naked
across the bar at the top of your stepladder
at the precise moment I'm passing on the street
at the bottom of your garden in the gathering
delight

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

Or maybe you're the foundation
at the Central School, so fine-boned
I carry you home in your portfolio case
laced up gently so you cry out on the bus
and the game away
up lightly, because girl
how could I injure someone
with perfect lips and wrists, your exquisite structure
Oh, little acrylic painter, I can eggshells, I can be ginger
all the say I'm such a sensitive singer

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

And maybe you're listening to my now
on your Walkman or bedsit Dansette
letting my songs slip into you on quiet night
in with your pads of doodles and your fingers full of
and low tar
And the light and pleasant so you hardly notice
I'm singing 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 want it to stay, because, you

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

But some of those bitter records
which accuse women, girls like you
of using attractiveness wantonly and willfully
to and to paralyze men
who wanted you and could never you
men who sometimes felt the urge
to the women they desired the most
men who imagined they all those immaculate visions
what adolescent crap, what kind of would sing that?
Oh, not me because, you

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

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

Ooo, true:
Girl, I'm only 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 thin air
and I'm moved to tears just any other sucker
been bruised by all the things that weren't to be
and yet who's ready to fall down on his
in front of a woman, and
"Whatever you may do, you may be to me
the times we disagree, your ridiculous ambitions
your conventional
I want you to that I respect you
I accept you and I want you to me
I want to you, kiss your stockinged knee
accept the soft flesh
on the of your hips,"

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

And I've won you
when fallen down in front of you, and said:
"Damn Franz Kafka, damn the White Duke
(damn the White Duke)
it's you and you alone I'm this for,"
When I'm through heroes and pastiche
(throwing in lovers' eyes)
when you've let me make 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 epitaph:
"Here lies the painter Paul
somewhat closer than usual to the heart of
but far close enough,"

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