Luyện nghe bài hát Fly Boy Blue / Lunette

It's a lethal
Air congestion
I'm a baby
Second thoughts, scotch,
And someone's on the box
A MP
And no one was

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

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

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

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

What can be said of the and wine
Random or ballast for joy
That was scuppered trust, little more than a boy
And besides I'm in company
I'm the age when decisions are made
On life and living and I'm sure ditch
That'll ask for more time
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 neck I wake to

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