Luyện nghe bài hát Hotel Noir

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