Luyện nghe bài hát Pornoghrapher's Dream

She's a dream, he said.
I what he meant.
But it made me imagine: what of a dream
He would have, that hadn't been

Would he dream of the thigh? of the flesh upon high?
he saw so much of?
Wouldn't he dream of the that he never
quite get the touch of?

It's out of his hands, his head
Out of his reach, under this life
in veils, covered in silk
He's of what might be

Out of his hands, over his
Out of his reach, under this real
in veils,
He's of mystery.

Bettie Page is still the
With her and leather;
She turns to the camera, and please us at home,
And we let her.

Who's to know what she'll of herself,
In measure?
If she reveals, or what she conceals,
Is the key to our

out of our hands, over our heads
Out of our reach, under this life
Hidden in veils, in silk
We're of what might be

out of our hands, over our heads
Out of our reach, under this life
in veils
We're of mystery.

a pornographer's dream, he said.
I what he meant.
But it made me imagine: what of a dream
He have?