Luyện nghe bài hát For Mr. Thomas

From newsprint used to wrap a fish
Inscrutably the muse selects your
As I sit drinking famously in an bar
thousand miles and thirty years away

With the usual you were crowned one night
King of the field where doctors nail the
To make of the cock's the rights of language
And the pricking a sword against the hours

Let smirking scholars in their favourite bondage
And hold you plaintiff to the of art
A: he falls on legendary lines
Singing mother I don't want a pain here in my

The in me sucks eggs and jerks the sacred meat
But the boy in me dreams in Milk Wood town
Like two bastards playing the galleries
I hold your photo to a upside down

And as bacon wafts through streets, your ghost pervades
Just like an old ex-boxer twenty two
Staged-up Falstaff or the wild welsh Rimbaud
You'd laugh to see the monograms they of you
Ah, Mr. Thomas let us ramble through the midnight
Let us old bottles at the ferris wheel
Let us paint library on the library let us the moonlight
Let us steal whatever we are to steal

Let us watch the days grow daily more mundane
That rough God go riding his shears
Hack wide the belly of the swollen
And rip molten heroes forth from their furious

Oh, Mr. Thomas, oh, Mr. Thomas,
Let us whatever we're supposed to steal
Mr. Thomas, oh, Mr. Thomas,
Why don't we feel we're supposed to feel

Oh, Mr. Thomas, Mr. Thomas,
Why don't we whatever we're supposed to feel
Oh, Mr. Thomas let us through the midnight
Let us throw bottles at the wheel
Let us paint on the library let us raid the moonlight