Luyện nghe bài hát Lost

Picture this: two thirty on the night in June
He awaits for no reason and his watch by the moon
And his mouth feels as dry as his as he struggles to rise
and stops to contemplate his eyes as he does up his flies
He finds his where he left them under the chair
behind the two cups and an old copy of Marie
And he on the coffee machine that, of course, works like a dream
Catches of his reflection in the silver surface sheen
and it's a he knows well, although it should look less abused,
with all these moisturisers and the skin he used
As he moves through the kitchen his homage to steel,
the new pine flooring that's plastic but looks real
Past the plasma with the wide screen and surround sound
and he stops at his spot by the window and looks down
On the orange lit street at the of the private car park
where his Audi TT is safely in the dark (safely in the dark)
Keeping it all of you (inside of you)
Something will have to
And if you could, take it back
But you lose way in the way you live
Now he can hear windchimes out on the balcony
and his phone beeping out a text in the same key
He checks it and it's who used to be his secretary
before they started an and things began to get really scary
Now his wife Mary's getting of his lies
like she's read the whole story in his eyes
It doesn't help that Jill's now saying she's two weeks late,
His state is really starting to deteriorate
He knew how he got so out of his depth
or why he's broken more than all these kept
And it's been ages since slept properly
His sleep's now broken by these dreams of marital activity
Trying to recapture the he used to get
from his possessions and endless retail therapy sessions
Should listened to what his dad said before he died
"The best in life are the ones you can't buy, son"
it all inside of you (inside of you)
Something will have to
Wish you could buy a back (a ticket back)
But you your way in the way you live
He used to feel so up here in his shrine to Ikea
from the shouts and the louts, and the girls with the overpainted pouts
And the and the dykes and the kids in their box-fresh Nike's
delivering rocks to the across the street on rusty mountain bikes
He used to feel so safe up here in his to Ikea
from the shouts and the louts, and the girls with the overpainted pouts
And the queers and the and the kids in their box-fresh Nike's
rocks to the house across the street on rusty mountain bikes