Luyện nghe bài hát High-Strung Poets

You yourself in camouflage
to see your eyes out just right and you
fired your last cannon pen.
your parchment battlefield
so in rhyme and meter and
war of words began to meet its Hell today.

Hold your against the sun.
like high-strung poets on a porcelain string.
Tied to one another, searching for something.

You'll throw weapons down again
and see the ink spilled the page and you'll
your lasts thoughts to the machine again.

Hold your against the sun.
like high-strung poets on a porcelain string.
Tied to one another, always for something.

Let the sun the mystery
of words misery.
Face light beneath the
thoughts I I'd never.