Luyện nghe bài hát Happy Hour

by alcohol,
shooting out like a rocket,
like a prophet out of
acting the absurd...
Shoot me those
till I'm lit up like I'm in a socket;
lock me to eyeball,
let's not with the words.
Oh, on the clowns, bring on the night,
me double vision in black and white.
I'm falling, don't give me that look!
I'm falling, falling, it's the oldest in the book,
My chickadee, my flower,
show me the way to the Hour.

I don't like to see
oh, no, I don't like the way the is shaking,
like an acrobat
on his way to the trapeze.
My friends in the
are all taking
they're taking the safety net.
Falling, don't give me that look!
I'm falling, only falling, the oldest trick in the book,
on the high-wire tower
is this what they mean by "Happy Hour"?

The line the social and the suicidal
so fine he 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 to the game of forgetting
the marionette strings that us,
the world just outside the door.
I know that my legs have
and I know the light 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, don't give me that look!
I'm falling, only falling, it's the oldest in the book,
My chickadee, my flower,
show me the way to the Hour.
on the high-wire tower
is this really what mean by "Happy Hour"?

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