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 your toes poke out through your
at funny to your feet
and how you know it me on

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

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

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

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

Or maybe you're the foundation
at the Central School, looking so
I could you home in your portfolio case
up gently so you won't cry out on the bus
and give the away
tied up lightly, girl
how could I knowingly injure
with your perfect and wrists, your exquisite structure
Oh, little acrylic painter, I can eggshells, I can be ginger
all the critics say I'm a sensitive singer

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

And maybe you're to my voice now
on your or your bedsit Dansette
letting my songs slip you on this quiet night
in with your pads of doodles and your full of pencils
and low tar
And the music's 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 that you
that you and leaves you just the same
and how I want it to stay, because, you know

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

But some of those bitter records
records which accuse women, girls you
of using your wantonly and willfully
to trap and to men
who wanted you and never have you
men who sometimes felt the perverse
to trash the women they desired the
men who imagined they despised all those visions
what adolescent crap, what of idiot would sing that?
Oh, not me because, you

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

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

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

And all the I see you there
in the eye of my mind, and all that cheap macho
about de Sade and misogyny vanishes thin air
and I'm to tears just like any other sucker
who's been by all the things that weren't 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 that I respect you
I accept you and I want you to me
I want to kiss you, kiss stockinged knee
accept the uniquely flesh
on the undersides of hips,"

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

And I've won you
I've fallen down in front of you, and said:
"Damn Franz Kafka, the Thin White Duke
(damn the White Duke)
it's you and you alone I'm this for,"
When I'm with heroes and pastiche
(throwing in lovers' eyes)
when let me make love to you
the slowest, way that I know how
(when you do for me, baby)
and it feels so (bear with me)
that's when I'll of Paul Klee's epitaph:
"Here lies the Paul Klee
somewhat closer than usual to the of creation
but far from enough,"

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