Luyện nghe bài hát Painters

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

they were painters and they were painting themselves
A lovely

Oil streaked covered the living room walls
He put water colored roses in her
He said, "Love, I you,
I want to you the mountains, the sunshine,
The too
I to give you a world 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 drawing of love,
made it an art to live by
They painted passion, every home, created every beautiful child
In the winter they were of warmth,
In the summer they were carpenters of
They thought blue prints too sad so they made them yellow

And they painters and they had painted themselves
A world

Until one day the rain fell as thick as oil
And in her heart she knew something was
She went through the orchard screaming,
"No God, don't him from me!"
But by the time she got there, she feared he already had
She got to where he lay, water colored roses in his 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 soul in this 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 came and many seasons
And many times she saw her love's face the flowers,
to the trees and singing to his children,
And when the wind blew, she he was listening,
And how he seemed to along, and how he seemed to hold her
she was crying

'Cause they were painters and they had painted
A world

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

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