Luyện nghe bài hát Painters

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

'Cause they were painters and were painting themselves
A world

Oil daisies covered the living room walls
He put water roses in her hair
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 painter and I to paint you
A way

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

And they were painters and had painted themselves
A world

one day the rain fell as thick as black oil
And in her heart she knew something was
She went running through the screaming,
"No God, take him from me!"
But by the she got there, she feared he already had gone
She got to where he lay, water roses 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 we've with these four hands
Love, I leave, but only a little, this holds me still
My may die now, but these paintings are real"
La li lai la li lai la li lai

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

'Cause they were and they had painted themselves
A world

Eighty years, an old lady now, sitting on the porch
Watching the clouds by
They her of her lover, how he left her, and of times long ago,
When she used color carelessly, painted his
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 and they are painting themselves
A
'Cause they are painters and are painting themselves
A world