Luyện nghe bài hát Man of a Thousand Faces

The man of a faces
Sits at the table
a small lump of sugar
And smiles at the like he knows her

And his quiet ascension
Without steady instruction
To a place and no
Has found a path to our

His words are quiet like
Are on a washed in a river
Stains that are to cover for each other
Or at least blend in with the

Good is better perfect
Scrub till fingers are bleeding
And I'm crying for that
I tell to do without crying

He used to go to his bookstores
And rip out his pages
And 'em into his breast pockets
The moon to him was a

Now he down at a table right next to the window
And his quiet ascension
Without anyone's instruction
To a place and no
Has found a to our alikeness

And he eats a lump of sugar
And smiles at the moon like he her