Luyện nghe bài hát Maniac

She's on his mind, on his wall. She's in the
corner of his eye. She whispers delerium. He
climbs inside and blushes as the crimson tide
and flushes him . . . The sheets are stained;
alone again and unfulfilled. A bill. The
dream was before he kissed her--now he's
cursing the alarm. But she teases the T.V.--
her legs in magazines. She steams his
collar, she his shelf, she cuts his hair. She's
never there . . . There's just the one-way while
the ansaphone says "No way!" But search and
find her even if he has to tie her down . . . (He'd
kiss the ground she on . . .)