Luyện nghe bài hát Ghost (The Pottery Scene)

Under sun-stained
A carpet holds your wine-stained shirt
And we can lay til whenever, my whatever.
I never I'd make it
Tracing maps led back into your palms
Rubbed smooth from stones
Not that you're ever stoned

I you making breakfast
I lie so still never notice I'm not asleep
I you pack your things and head out of view
You've got things to do and be high by 4AM
And I slept Vegas, just like I slept on the train
that I took back home from where we talked all
I wish I stayed in that forever.

Wherever I go I carry ghost in periphery
And all your mood cast in gold.
You little black and white in monochrome.
broken knee-bones.
The phone call.
The of my severed home.

Letting go of left-
A jar of sand and your
in a box in my room somewhere.
Remember forties at the
as fuck, you said you thought "the vibe here sucks"
Fuck the stones you hold.
They won't your body from the cold - They're just painted rock.
And they you down.
Made me think I you, I don't need you.
I need a one-way flight, I to get my shit together.

I go, I can feel the rope digging into me.
And all your mood cast in gold.
You little and white kaleidoscope in monochrome.
Your broken bones.
The late night phone call from a when you felt alone.

It was the greatest story told.
All of the that you told,
Were all your rings cast in gold?
In and white, Kaleidoscope in monochrome.
Your knee bones.
The late phone call and the reverie of a severed wight
Wherever I go I can feel your ghost after me
And all your of gold, such a joke
You little black and kaleidoscope
Your knee-bones.
The phone calls come less and less each year.
And all of the ashes that we held
Held all the embers of our years
Burned brighter than the we'd know
From my home.