Luyện nghe bài hát Lost

Picture this, 2:30 on the night in June
He awakes for no reason and checks his by the moon
And his mouth as dry as his eyes as he struggles to rise
And stops to contemplate his wifes as he does up his flies

He finds his slippers he left them under the chair
Behind the two cups and an old of Marie Claire
And he switches on the machine
That of works like a dream
Catches of his reflection in the silver surface sheen

And it's a face he knows well although it look less abused
With all these and the skin products hes used
As he moves through the kitchen, his homage to brushed
Across the new pine floorin' thats plastic but looks

Past the with the wide screen
And the cinema surround
And he on his favorite spot by the window and looks down
On the orange lit street at the edge of the private car
Where his Audi TT is safely in the dark

Keepin' it all of you
Somethin' will have to
And if you could youll take it
But you lose way in the way you live

Now he can hear wind chimes tinklin' out on the
And his phone out a text message in the same key
He checks it and its Jill who used to be his
Before they an affair and things began to get really scary

Now his wife is gettin' weary of his lies
Like shes read the sordid story in his eyes
It doesnt that Jills now sayin' that shes two weeks late
His mental state is startin' to deteriorate

He never how he got so out of his depth
Or why hes broken more than all these kept
And its been ages he slept properly
His sleeps now broken by dreams of extra-marital activity

Tryin' to recapture the rapture he to get
From his material possessions and endless retail sessions
listened to what his dad said before he died
The best things in life are the you cant buy, son

Keepin' it all of you
Somethin' will have to
Wish you could buy a ticket
But you lose way in the way you live

He used to so safe up here in his shrine to Ikea
Away the shouts and the louts and the girls
With the over painted
And the queers and the dykes and the kids in their box Nikes
Deliverin' rocks to the house across the
On rusty bikes

He used to feel so safe up here in his to Ikea
Away from the shouts and the louts and the
the over painted pouts
And the queers and the dykes and the kids in their box Nikes
Deliverin' to the house across the street
On rusty bikes