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

(Hammill)

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

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

III, he's 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,
there's none in all the of men,
there's else
but my guitar...
I suppose have to do.

Talking in tongues is easy when you how,
quite pleasing, but nothing works out right.
Pressurised lungs, heart bleeding, you'd better slow
and show you can make it through the night.
However dark it seems, the present is the present,
beyond it no further darkness concealed
and through these dreams,
this longing for 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 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 is just escape,
I run because I don't know where the lies.
In like this I can bear the weight;
I'm still,
I until,
one day, I hope I'll arrive.