Luyện nghe bài hát Fred Jones Pt 2

Fred sits alone at his desk in the
an awkward young shadow that waits in the hall
He's cleared all his things and put them in boxes
that remind him, life has been good

Twenty-five years, he's at the paper
A here to take him downstairs
And I'm sorry, Mr. Jones, time

was no party, there were no songs
'Cause just a day like the day that he started
No one is left that knows his first name
And life barrels on like a train

Where the passengers change, don't change anything
You get off, else can get on
And I'm sorry, Mr. Jones, it's

Streetlight shines through the
Casting lines on the and lines on his face
He on the day

Fred his paints out and goes to the basement
Projecting slides onto a plain white
Canvas and traces it, in the spaces
He turns off the slides, and it look right

Yeah, and all of bastards have taken his place
forgotten but not yet gone
And I'm sorry, Mr. Jones, and I'm sorry, Mr.
And I'm sorry, Mr. Jones, time