Luyện nghe bài hát Lost

Picture this: two on the hottest night in June
He awaits for no and checks his watch by the moon
And his mouth feels as dry as his eyes as he to rise
and stops to contemplate his [wife's?] eyes as he does up his
He finds his where he left them under the chair
behind the two cups and an old of Marie Claire
And he switches on the coffee machine that, of course, like a dream
Catches sight of his reflection in the silver surface
and it's a face he knows well, it should look less abused,
with all these and the skin products he used
As he moves through the his homage to brush steel,
across the new pine flooring plastic but looks real
Past the plasma with the screen and cinema surround sound
and he stops at his favourite spot by the and looks down
On the orange lit at the edge of the private car park
his Audi TT is waiting safely in the dark (safely in the dark)
Keeping it all of you (inside of you)
Something will to give
And if you could, take it back
But you lose your way in the way you
Now he can hear windchimes tinkling out on the
and his beeping out a text message in the same key
He checks it and it's who used to be his secretary
before they started an affair and things began to get scary
Now his wife Mary's wary of his lies
like read the whole sordid story in his eyes
It doesn't help Jill's now saying that she's two weeks late,
His mental state is starting to deteriorate
He never knew how he got so out of his
or why broken more than all these promises kept
And it's been ages since slept properly
His sleep's now broken by dreams of extra marital activity
Trying to the rapture he used to get
from his material possessions and 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"
Keeping it all of you (inside of you)
Something will to give
Wish you could buy a ticket (a ticket back)
But you your way in the way you live
He used to feel so safe up here in his to Ikea
Away from the shouts and the louts, and the with the overpainted pouts
And the queers and the dykes and the kids in their Nike's
delivering rocks to the house across the street on rusty bikes
He used to so safe up here in his shrine to Ikea
from the shouts and the louts, and the girls with the overpainted pouts
And the queers and the dykes and the kids in their Nike's
delivering rocks to the house the street on rusty mountain bikes