Luyện nghe bài hát Man of a Thousand Faces

The man of a thousand
down at the table
Eats a small lump of
And smiles at the like he knows her

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

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

Good is than perfect
Scrub till your fingers are
And I'm crying for things
I tell to do without crying

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

Now he sits at a table right next to the window
And begins his ascension
Without steady instruction
To a place and no
Has found a path to our

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