Luyện nghe bài hát May I Call You Beatrice

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

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

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

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

See her strain from the of the globe
Spinning around his assumptions, and tight lipped
He in his favourite chair, 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 blows
And the of the child grow old
When the erratic conga rises and
Above the metronome
You can take me to the gravestone

The sees the hand play with the ring in the pocket
And the head the hand 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

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

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

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

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