Luyện nghe bài hát Lots

Head south
each grey dawn
Hold on
No prints
Mother my
choice to make
Get to go

Feel like we've been here
a choice and insecure
Of where be without this net around
Yet we've always it

Now we stand a chance to break the
And lance that cuts into the heart
And burns the essence of our dreams

No in sight
Held on too
Skylines down
No crops dust
Blind run deep
Pale surf, cold
choice to make
Get to go

throne, no sire
Black earth past
out regret
No past, no
days ahead
None rest, yet
Once choice to
Get to go