Luyện nghe bài hát Parameters

Thirty-three go by and not once do you come home
To find a man sitting in your
That is, a man you don't
Who came a way to deliver one very specific message
Lock your back door, you
invincible you imagine yourself to be, you are wrong

Thirty-three go by
And you loosen the momentum of teenage
breasts hang like a woman's
And you don't at shadows anymore
Instead you may pause to admire
Those that move with the grace of trees dancing past

And you walk through your without turning on lamps
Sure of the from door to table, from table to staircase
Sure of the of steps, seven to the landing
Two to turn then seven more
Sure you will serenely on the moving walkway of memory
Across your bedroom and collapse a sigh onto your bed

Shoes falling thunk onto the floor
And there will be no strange man, all that time sitting there
Sitting there on what must be the prize
In your collection of uncomfortable with a wild look in his eyes
And hands that you cannot see, holding what? You do not

So sure are you of the endless drumming rhythm of your
you are painfully slow to adjust
If only because yours is not genre of story
Still and again, life cannot muster the stuff of
No bullets glass instead fear sits patiently
Fear almost smiles when you see him

Though you have kept him waiting for years
And now he has let in
And he has brought you of teenage nightmares
Though you think you see, in your naivete that he is handed
And this brings you relief at the time

New as you are, really, to the that
Even after you've long since gotten to the parameters
They can all
While you're out one night having a drink a friend
Some big hand may be a big dial
Switching on your dreams
Until you yourself lost in them
And your daily life with the sound off

And of course cautiously turned down the flame under your eyes
There are shadows around everything
vision, a dim flashlight
That you have to shake all the way to the
solitude elevating itself like the spirit of the dead
Presiding over your supposed repose, not sleep at all
Just a position and a series of suspicious sounds
A clanking pipe, a branch, the footfalls of a cat

All of and maybe
The swish of the leather of your intruder's coat
As you him step by step back to the door
Having talked him down off the ledge of a bad idea
Soft leather, big feet, almond
The kinds of details the police officer ask for later
With his and his pistol in your hallway