Luyện nghe bài hát Fly Boy Blue / Lunette

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Bắt đầu làm bài nào

It's a ballet
Air congestion
I'm having a
Second thoughts, scotch,
And dancing 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 acres of crash love

dancing on the box
A MP
And no one was
My oldest friends are a habit
Fly boy blue, so your faces home
To my trampoline
And acres of crash site

delays
Suppose I'm just
I'm having a dig
Me, Red Bob and the host
And shouting on the box
A prefect gone Godzilla
My newest friends have my name
But so I, so far so good and home
You and me and oceans 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
Would the dawn kiss me, forgiven me, knowing what's done
the drivel make scribble make sense and then song
Would the woodbines denied the northern man's thumbs
Perverse as it may sound I believe
The tip to my lips reminds me to breathe

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

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

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