Luyện nghe bài hát Fly Boy Blue / Lunette

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Bắt đầu làm bài nào

It's a ballet
Air traffic
I'm having a
thoughts, scotch, dinner
And someone's on the box
A MP
And no one was

My friends are a serious habit
Fly boy blue, so bring faces home,
To my sweet
And of crash site love

dancing on the box
A MP
And no one was
My oldest friends are a serious
Fly boy blue, so bring faces home
To my sweet
And of crash site love

Presidential
Suppose I'm lucky
I'm having a dig
Me, Red Bob and the ivory
And shouting on the box
A chinless prefect Godzilla
My newest friends have my name
But so have I, so far so and home
You and me trampoline and of crash site love

can be said of the cigarette smokes
A prop for a joke or a on the clock
If I stopped the bus ever come
the dawn ever kiss me, forgiven me, knowing what's done
Would the drivel make scribble make sense and song
the woodbines denied like the northern man's thumbs
Perverse as it may sound I sometimes
The tip to my lips reminds me to breathe

What can be of the whiskey and wine
abandon or ballast for joy
That was scuppered trust, little more than a boy
And besides I'm in excellent
I'm the age when decisions are made
On life and living and I'm sure ditch
That'll I'll ask for more
But forgive me
I'll still a bottle of good Irish whiskey and a bundle of smokes in my grave

But there isn't yet for the comfort I get
From the gentle lunette at the top of the nape of the that I wake to

And where are the for the leap in my chest
When mischief appears side of the scar on your nose
Made by a thorn, so you claim
By a thorn