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 hearts and crosses. He left in the
(at Hotel Noir)--unanswered, yet he read
them for her and time again . . . She looked
clean through him and him how she loved
white horses, riding on a swing and in a
cornfield on a summer's night. She'd watch
the lights. Alone but never lonely--until
now. He whisky but the waiter walked clean
him. He sadly shook his head, and lit his
fifteenth . . . and slowly, surely pictures for-
med he never could forget . . . Loretta him sea
shells, Henrietta sent a rose, and Margaretta
they'd marry in a letter he'd never answered
(left it in the at Hotel Noir . . .) And she said
how she the sea at full moon. Running down
a silver beach silver ribbons trailing from her
hands. She a doorway in the sand where
she'd store away her stones. Precious stones
could be diamonds, just because they in
rain. And there she'd sleep, and there
dream. And there she died. The tide
backwards and it dried and a headstone made
of salt. The breeze turned to steam. And even
the vegetables screamed and and
. . . He stretched his hand out just to touch
her--but she said she had to . . .