Luyện nghe bài hát Lost

Picture this, on the hottest night in June
He for no reason and checks his watch by the moon
And his mouth as dry as his eyes as he struggles to rise
And stops to contemplate his wifes thighs as he up his flies

He finds his slippers where he left them the chair
the two cups and an old copy of Marie Claire
And he switches on the machine
That of course like a dream
sight of his reflection in the silver surface sheen

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

Past the with the wide screen
And the surround sound
And he stops on his favorite by the window and looks down
On the orange lit street at the of the private car park
his Audi TT is waitin' safely in the dark

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

Now he can hear wind chimes out on the balcony
And his phone beepin' out a message in the same key
He checks it and its Jill who used to be his
they started 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 really to deteriorate

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

Tryin' to recapture the he used to get
From his possessions and endless retail therapy sessions
Shoulda listened to his dad said before he died
The things in life are the ones you cant buy, son

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

He used to feel so safe up here in his to Ikea
from the shouts and the louts and the girls
With the over pouts
And the queers and the dykes and the kids in box fresh Nikes
rocks to the house across the street
On rusty bikes

He to feel so safe up here in his shrine to Ikea
Away from the shouts and the louts and the
With the over pouts
And the queers and the and the kids in their box fresh Nikes
Deliverin' to the house across the street
On rusty mountain