Luyện nghe bài hát Dylan Thomas Days

Treetops spinning at the outskirts of my
In the yard of a stranger on the edges of my mind
I lay broken with my up to heaven, I guess
Drinking hard for seven days can turn your blue eyes

Held that tragic
a puppet on my knee
Blurred the line him and me
And nearly lost my

I realized I could
Get puppet, get him good
I used that doll for kindling
To me from the cold

Oh my Dylan days are finally over
I'm with all those self-destructive ways
And I ain't exactly clean at least I'm sober
I made it through my Thomas days

Lord have mercy, it's a sunny, Sunday
And I am not in a coma and nothing I regret
I did not wake up thirsty or to the of my own snoring
And the not so faint aroma of tequila on my

a concept, can it be?
I feel a little Dorothy
she woke up and found that she
Was in her own bed

But oh that nightmare seemed true
And you there and you were too
I don't how I made it through
sure I'd end up dead

God his soul, and his broken heart
"Time has a heaven 'round the stars."
Watch over me now, you are
Probably drinking whiskey in the Hereafter Bar

There's in the atmosphere
Crying tears
To wash our doubts and fears
And us on our way

I used to run their concern
Light the bridge and it burn
I a while, at last I learned
That the only way . . .