Luyện nghe bài hát Pocket

Here comes
His trousers a thousand deadly sins
The maddest things we found in bins
He clutches them and looks at you and

comes pockets
The children wary of what may contain
The linen may changed, the contents same
A treasure island with no name

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

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

Here comes the
through history to just a crawl
History turns the tall into the
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 dreams but we can't 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 clinging on to
Like the oak tree to the
'Cause finding one letter in a sky high jumble sale
Is one single reason, why the pocket will not