Luyện nghe bài hát Grace Hospital

I'm down the corridor
Of the seventh floor of the Grace
I'm gonna it to the end
I'm gonna smoke a cigarette, the cigarette is my friend

I can hear my a-slappin'
I can feel my a-flappin'
I've got my whole being set making it to the end
Of the seventh floor corridor of the Grace

These are my people, hello Joe, how ya
Don't I good care of you, Joe?
Mrs. Bergman, how you doin'? No, I don't have your mail
I'm not the friggin'

I'm going to it to the end
And when I make it to the end I smoke my cigarette

They it very hard to smoke here
But got it all figured out
They make it hard and builds up your strength
And then they you to check out

There's a man in below
He's all up with nowhere to go
He's a-cursin' and a-swearin' and watchin' the drops roll
Roll down his

He's stuck in hour traffic and he's sayin'
"Oh, I shoulda bought farm in the country
I been home by now
I woulda milkin' cows and sloppin' pigs
And sayin' things to my benign wife"

"Instead of sittin' here up the tail-pipe
Of someone I do not even know and probably like
And up at the face at the end
Of the floor of the Grace Hospital"

I'm walking the corridor
Of the seventh of the Grace Hospital
green here, like a green nightmare
They come Thursday morning

They spend an hour in the boardroom making decisions like
say, "Oh yes, green like the grass, like the trees
That'll make everyone up and feel so happy
'em feel so pleased"

Well, I'm so pleased that when I get out of
I'm gonna write greeting cards
Tellin' everyone how sweet it is

Green, it just reminds everybody of their own
And their own puke and oh, the blonde, she pats her
And she tastes chlorohydrate on her fingertips and oh
"Daniel" Yes, "Would you come the office please?"

I'm down the corridor
Of the Hospital
I'm gonna look out at the
At the sweet, rain

There's a man in below

Instead I'm sitting here in rush hour traffic lookin' up the pipe
Of someone I do not and probably would not even like
And this face at the end
Of the seventh floor of the Grace Hospital
Lookin' out at the rain

I'm down the corridor
I'm startin' to get withdrawal but I'm gonna it to the end
I can feel my a-flappin' and I can hear my slippers a-slappin'
Hello Mrs. Bergman, no, I don't have the mail

And if you don't your dog tied up
I'm gonna have the dog catcher
I care if you're ninety years old and he's sixteen
And you've together all this time
He's gonna take him away, don't ask me for the
"Daniel, will you into the office?"

I'm walking down the corridor of the Grace
Me and my bride, there's gonna be a wedding
I'm feeling so happy inside, oh, me and my rolling
we go hand in hand, needle in arm, she is my only friend

When I get to the end I will out at the traffic below
And I smile sort of sweetly and tilt my head
And everyone will look up and think that I'm out at the rain
As if it's the sweetest thing ever seen

The Grace is a terminal hospital
And knows that and
And maybe that's why the so bad and
And can I see your fucking passes please, oh?

Last night came into my room
And they my bag of sugar water
And they must have changed it for strange potion
'Cause now I feel like I'm on some strange ocean

a man in traffic

Instead I'm here in traffic
Lookin' up at this white balloon at the end of a liquid
At the end of the seventh of the Grace Hospital
Lookin' out at the rain
Like the sweetest thing that he's ever seen

O, I'm gonna myself

I'm running down the
Of the floor of the Grace Hospital
Me and my family, on everybody
We're heading down the runway, we're gonna kick thing

Come on Mrs. Bergman, be so much mail
I'm taking off of the
I'm out into the rain, out into the rain
Out into the goddamn, sweet goddamn rain