Luyện nghe bài hát Painters

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

'Cause they were painters and they were painting
A lovely

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

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

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

And they were painters and they had painted
A world

Until one day the rain fell as as black oil
And in her heart she something was wrong
She went running 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, colored roses in his hands for her
She threw them down screaming, "Damn you man, don't me
With nothing left behind but these cold paintings, these portraits
To me!"

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

So many seasons and many seasons went
And many she saw her love's face watering the flowers,
Talking to the trees and 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
When she was

'Cause they were painters and they had painted
A world

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

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