Luyện nghe bài hát Pieta

Doubting Thomas his car in his Sunday best
Taps his wallet, tie, lights a cigarette
Pilgrim's progress, no end
Which way
the door he scans the bar, then a space appears
His drink is poured, for he is numb, the service it starts
He sees it in the barmaid's face, a winning caress
A million eyes in public stalk, the queue up to
Lost causes, loves, hates and shames, old fought and won
Bad debts, bad tips, the song, the dreamers talk in tongues
Haloes swarm, the air is thin, thick smoke in of blue
Elvis has a heart, eyes dart across the room
Empty heads and stomachs full, the ashtrays
Drinks are raised and voices good deeds of long ago
He drains his glass and makes a sign, the Virgin appears
The Prince needs a tender touch, his sacred heart knows no fear
Upon a cloud on optic shrine, he can't control his
On his knees, held in prayer, a practice lapsed for years
The clears, the light grows dim, the sanctus bell is rung
A miracle at closing time, our lady her son
The faithful to celebrate the vision Thomas saw
A rail now stands around the spot where kissed the floor