Luyện nghe bài hát Fred Jones, Pt2

Fred alone at his desk in the dark
There's an young shadow that waits in the hall
cleared all his things and he's put them in boxes
Things that remind him: 'Life has good'
Twenty-five
He's at the paper
A here to take him downstairs
And I'm sorry, Mr.
time
There was no party, there no songs
'Cause just a day like the day that he started
No one is left here that knows his name
And life barrels on like a runaway
Where the passengers
They don't anything
You get off; else can get on
And I'm sorry, Mr.
time
Streetlight shines through the
Casting lines on the floor, and on his face
He on the day
Fred gets his paints out and to the basement
Projecting slides onto a plain white
and traces it
Fills in the
He turns off the slides, and it look right
Yeah, and all of these
Have taken his
He's forgotten but not yet
And I'm sorry, Mr.
And I'm sorry, Mr.
And I'm sorry, Mr.
It's