Luyện nghe bài hát Happy Hour

by alcohol,
shooting out words a rocket,
a prophet out of Babylon
method the absurd...
me those highballs
till I'm lit up I'm plugged in a socket;
lock me to eyeball,
not bother with the words.
Oh, bring on the clowns, on the night,
pour me double vision in and white.
I'm falling, falling give me that look!
I'm falling, falling, it's the trick in the book,
My chickadee, my flower,
me the way to the Happy Hour.

I don't to see that:
oh, no, I like the way the hand is shaking,
shape-making an acrobat
on his way to the trapeze.
My friends in the
are all bets
they're away the safety net.
Falling, don't give me that look!
I'm falling, falling, it's the oldest trick in the book,
vertigo on the tower
is this really what mean by "Happy Hour"?

The line between the and the suicidal
so he might not know when he's crossed it,
he's lost it;
when the kick becomes the gauging-stick of survival.

So to the circus,
let's drink to the of forgetting
the marionette strings jerk us,
the real just outside the door.
I know that my legs have
and I know that the here is far from perfect...
but rehearsed it, so I'll carry on
until I up on the floor.

My in the bar
stand me a round,
they'll me on my way to the underground.
I'm falling, falling don't give me look!
I'm falling, only falling, it's the trick in the book,
My chickadee, my flower,
show me the way to the Hour.
on the high-wire tower
is this what they mean by "Happy Hour"?

Put on the greasepaint, getting ready for Happy Hour.
Do you hear me now? Can you me now?
I'm in the middle of Hour...
Put on the greasepaint.
[repeat to