Luyện nghe bài hát May I Call You Beatrice

Just a little thought in the of the one
With the sunburnt and the eyes to the ground
Making tongue-tied gutter sounds

Thinking of the lost rib, the indelible
Thinking the unthinkable, no home

And the eyes say, I don't we've met
I don't believe had the privilege
I believe we've met

When the wind, when the wind, when the wind cold
And the eyes of the grow old
When the erratic conga rises and
Above the metronome
You can me back to the gravestone

See her strain from the of the globe
Spinning around his assumptions, barefoot and lipped
He in his chair, blowing his world around

she's Beatrice then she's a pumpkin
Then she's a faded leaf in a on his pantry shelf

When the wind, when the wind, when the wind cold
And the eyes of the child old
When the erratic conga rises and
Above the faithful
You can take me to the gravestone

The head sees the play with the ring in the pocket
And the head knows the hand knows the ring is as
As the tear-soaked in a room in another town

And the ring is heavy and so is the crown
Which she drags to the chair feebly to keep the down

the wind, when the wind, when the wind blows cold
And the of the child grow old
the erratic conga rises and falls
Above the faithful
You can me back to the gravestone

When the bird in the bush is worth two in the
And the empty cage holds the man
The bird keeps flying from the orgoglian

And the phone keeps ringing and the phone keeps
And the keeps slipping and the phone
And the phone keeps on

And he's about the one who got away
And thinking about the one who got away
And he's thinking the one who got away
And thinking about the one who got away

And thinking and he's thinking
Whatchu