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 acting god in my own
I trade cigarettes in return for songs.
The deal's harder the longer I go on:
I me gone from all but secret languages.

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

Meurglys III, my friend,
the only one I can trust
to let it be pretence,
no-one else.
It's me, but in the end
there's no-one I know is true,
there's none in all the of men,
there's else
but my guitar...
I suppose he'll to do.

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

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