Luyện nghe bài hát May I Call You Beatrice

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

Thinking of the lost rib, dialing the
the unthinkable, no one's home

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

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

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

First she's Beatrice she's a pumpkin
Then she's a faded leaf in a book on his shelf

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

The head sees the hand play with the ring in the
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
she drags to the chair feebly to keep the swelling down

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

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

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

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

And he's and he's thinking
thinking?