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

(Hammill)

These I mainly just talk to plants and dogs,
all human seems painful, risky, odd,
so I stay god in my own universe
where I cigarettes in return for songs.
The made harder the longer I go on:
I find me from all but secret languages.

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

III, he's my friend,
the only one that I can
to let it be pretence,
no-one else.
It's me, but in the end
there's else I know is true,
there's none in all the of men,
nothing else
but my guitar...
I suppose he'll to do.

Talking in tongues is easy when you how,
quite pleasing, but still nothing out right.
Pressurised lungs, heart bleeding, you'd better slow
and show that you can it through the night.
However 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 or rooms are there to hear you,
and no-one is left you, then you'll see:
in the end only you and Meurglys III,
and is just what you chose to be.
(Fool!)

I know all this is just escape,
I run because I know where the prison lies.
In songs like this I can bear the
I'm still,
I until,
one day, I hope I'll arrive.