Luyện nghe bài hát May I Call You Beatrice

Just a thought in the head of the one
With the sunburnt cheeks and the 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 believe you've had the privilege
I believe we've met

When the wind, when the wind, when the wind blows
And the of the child grow old
When the erratic conga and falls
Above the metronome
You can take me back to the

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

First she's then she's a pumpkin
she's a faded leaf in a book on his pantry shelf

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

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

And the is getting heavy and so is the crown
Which she drags to the chair feebly to keep the swelling

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

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

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

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

And he's thinking and thinking
thinking?