Luyện nghe bài hát Ezmerelda Steals The Show

What melancholy
Has a multitude into mush
drop from shock
An old lady at altitude
Whispering

She slips off her white
And grabs her tenor
From its
half steps to the microphone
Smile on her
in her hand
Oh how a crowd can
When been dealt
Such a deliciously delicate
By a barefooted
Not a clang but a whisper
stealing the show

Fools distraction
And not to heart
Their faces to their fall south
Ignoring the beauty of a fog on a
And a kitten with a mouse in its
A motley mob down
And there's hardly a
As the air in the temple to mist
A spotlight, a mark and a cleanse of the
And her microphone gently is
You can hear a boot
And a of dust taste
As the babe bravely stared the herd

But she played not a
And one moment spoke
These simple and five words
You people are absurd