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

(Hammill)

These days I mainly just talk to and dogs,
all contact seems painful, risky, odd,
so I stay god in my own universe
I trade cigarettes in return for songs.
The deal's made 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....

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 else I is true,
none in all the masks of men,
there's nothing
but my guitar...
I he'll have to do.

Talking in tongues is when you know how,
quite pleasing, but still nothing out right.
Pressurised lungs, heart bleeding, you'd better down
and show that you can make it the night.
However dark it seems, the is just the present,
beyond it no further lies concealed
and through desperate dreams,
this for friends and comfort,
you that in the end all will be revealed.
When no more plants or dogs or are there to hear you,
and no-one is left near you, you'll see:
in the end there's only you and III,
and this is just what you to be.
(Fool!)

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