Luyện nghe bài hát Mission Street

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Bắt đầu làm bài nào

Mission is a striking dark-eyed stranger
Speaks a language I don't know but long to
Its cadences fall endlessly beyond the
As I sit as awaiting some return

And my hands are tonight, I'm sleepless in this dark
what it was I came to find
And it that I've been wrong
More than I've been right, more than I've right

Mission Street calls out to me by
Then hurries on before hardly turned my head
Promises of answers muttered underneath her
Like an offering of contraband

And my hands are cold tonight on the of this guitar
Looking for the of what I've left behind
And it seems that I've wrong
More than I've been right, more than I've been

Mission Street is at every hour
Like I've never been and I may not ever be
A so steady on the mountains in the distance
A solitude so it might awaken me

Well, my hands are cold tonight, but the sky is bright stars
And I'm through the veil that keeps me blind
And it seems the more I'm
The more that I am right, the more that I am
Mission Street, Street