Luyện nghe bài hát Painters

Eighty years, an old lady now, on the front porch
Watching the roll by
remind her of her lover, how he left her, and of times long ago,
When she used color carelessly, his portrait
A times, or maybe just his smile,
Her and her canvas would follow him wherever he go

'Cause they were painters and were painting themselves
A lovely

Oil streaked covered the living room walls
He put water colored in her hair
He said, "Love, I you,
I want to you the mountains, the sunshine,
The too
I want to give you a world as as you are to me"

I'm a painter and I want to paint you
A way

So they sat down and a drawing of their love,
They made it an art to by
They every passion, every home, created every beautiful child
In the winter they weavers of warmth,
In the they were carpenters of love
They thought blue prints were too sad so they made yellow

And were painters and they had painted themselves
A lovely

one day the rain fell as thick as black oil
And in her heart she something was wrong
She went through the orchard screaming,
"No God, take him from me!"
But by the time she got there, she feared he already had
She got to where he lay, water colored in his hands for her
She threw down screaming, "Damn you man, don't leave me
With nothing left behind but these paintings, these cold portraits
To me!"

He said, "Love I only a little, try to understand
I put my soul in this life created with these four hands
Love, I leave, but only a little, world holds me still
My may die now, but these paintings are real"
La li lai la li lai la li lai

So seasons came and many seasons went
And many she saw her love's face watering the flowers,
to the trees and singing to his children,
And when the blew, she knew he was listening,
And how he seemed to laugh along, and how he to hold her
she was crying

'Cause they were painters and they had themselves
A lovely

Eighty years, an old lady now, sitting on the front
Watching the roll by
They remind her of her lover, how he left her, and of times ago,
When she used color carelessly, painted his
A thousand times, or maybe his smile,
Her and her canvas would follow him he would go
Yes, she and her still follow

'Cause they are and they are painting themselves
A
'Cause they are and they are painting themselves
A world