Luyện nghe bài hát Meurglys III, The Songwriter's Guild

(Hammill)

These I mainly just talk to plants and dogs,
all contact seems painful, risky, odd,
so I acting god in my own universe
where I trade in return for songs.
The deal's made harder the I go on:
I find me gone from all but languages.

If only I could phrase satisfactory
in conversation, to my passion heard,
if only....

Meurglys III, my friend,
the only one I can trust
to let it be pretence,
there's else.
killing me, but in the end
there's no-one I know is true,
there's in all the masks of men,
nothing else
but my guitar...
I suppose have to do.

Talking in tongues is when you know how,
quite pleasing, but still works out right.
lungs, heart bleeding, you'd better slow down
and show that you can make it the night.
dark it seems, the present is just the present,
beyond it no further lies concealed
and through desperate dreams,
this longing for and comfort,
you know in the end all will be revealed.
When no more plants or dogs or are there to hear you,
and no-one is near you, then you'll see:
in the end there's you and Meurglys III,
and is just what you chose to be.
(Fool!)

Though I know all this is escape,
I run because I don't know the prison lies.
In songs like this I can bear the
I'm still,
I until,
one day, I that I'll arrive.