Luyện nghe bài hát Pocket

Here comes
His trousers hold a deadly sins
The maddest things we ever in bins
He clutches them and at you and grins

Here pockets
The children wary of what may contain
The linen may have changed, the contents
A trouser treasure with no name

And socially at the that the timetable forgot
Picking up tickets in a station of have nots
you are on that train of thought
You pass some pretty funky
When you are on that train of
You pass some pretty funky
the pocket, let him be
the pocket, let him be

Here pockets
up the things we cannot see
A bicycle, a dame, a tree
Things of no to you or me

Here comes the
Reduced through history to a crawl
History the tall into the small
But natural born trawlers to trawl

And the guitar of his hangs upon some wall
Or laying the staircase in a hall
We can carry but we can't hold them all
That's why we learn the blues we actually fall
the pocket, let him be
the pocket, let him be

And he's on to hope
the oak tree to the gale
'Cause finding one love letter in a sky jumble sale
Is one single reason, why the pocket not fail