Luyện nghe bài hát Hotel Noir

Two glasses on a glass-top table. are low,
the ashtray's full. he talks of all his
ringed with and crosses. He left them in the
drawer (at Hotel Noir)--unanswered, yet he
them for her time and time again . . . She
clean through him and told him how she
white horses, on a swing and laying in a
cornfield on a warm night. She'd watch
the dancing lights. but never lonely--until
now. He ordered whisky but the walked clean
him. He sadly shook his head, and lit his
fifteenth cigarette . . . and slowly, pictures for-
med he never could forget . . . sent him sea
shells, sent a rose, and Margaretta said
they'd marry in a letter that never answered
(left it in the drawer at Hotel . . .) And she said
how she the sea at full moon. Running down
a beach with silver ribbons trailing from her
hands. She a doorway in the sand where
store away her stones. Precious stones that
could be diamonds, just because sparkled in
rain. And there sleep, and there she'd
dream. And there she died. The tide
and it dried and left a headstone made
of salt. The warm turned to steam. And even
the screamed and screamed and
screamed . . . He stretched his hand out to touch
her--but she said she had to . . .