Luyện nghe bài hát Pocket

Here pockets
His trousers a thousand deadly sins
The things we ever found in bins
He clutches them and at you and grins

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

And socially at the platform that the timetable
up used tickets in a station of have nots
When you are on that of thought
You pass pretty funky stops
When you are on that of thought
You some pretty 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 Christmas
Things of no to you or me

comes the pocket
Reduced through to just a crawl
History turns the tall the small
But born trawlers love to trawl

And the guitar of his dreams hangs some wall
Or laying underneath the 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 on to hope
the oak tree to the gale
'Cause finding one love letter in a sky high jumble
Is one reason, why the pocket will not fail