Luyện nghe bài hát Monday Morning

Long before my stomping got trampled on
I sat and the greatest song
that every painter - every poet create.

And they opened doors
from what my parents had for
when the had a and raised a kid
I came to this.

And How good does feel in times like this?
And How good is my before I close my eyes and miss?
These exist.

Let it on monday morning
right the world is awake
I will ly there and just about the weather.
Let my blood beat from my
and put my veins up to it's
I will breathe in and know what it feels to alive.
I'm alive.

About the time our tree built fell on the lawn
we sat and heard the first of
that every rocking chair and shoe box create.
It's a world that's grown to be so careless with memories.
Only benevolence can what I mean.

But how good is this picture the background's gone?
When I still feel great about standing when everything went wrong,
and I am all alone.

Let it rain on monday
right before the world is
I will ly and just think about the weather.
Let my blood beat from my
and put my veins up to test
I breathe in and know what it feels to feel alive.
I'm alive.

Let it rain on my
so I can the sounds,
of passing winds through tree's
say "I'll see you around."
The seasons can say things that I can.
These describe nothing,
I come home again.
Well I I must have lost it,
in a of my luck.
It "this is you're life now, and you're done with growing up."
Well I my mark,
and I those tree's,
and I miss lying in bed to picture these things.