Luyện nghe bài hát Fly

As I fly through the eye
That the man at the helm is more
Of losing his than his mind or his hold on the sky

And the wings on his rings he wears
and bow to the man splitting hairs
Between the weight of his and the birds in the sky
And makes them fly

And the inside the seed is what feeds the rose
And the bud that grows from
Is knowing than those
Who purge the sea
From their boat
the skin is all they see
For a of gold
For a of gold