Luyện nghe bài hát Sellers of Flowers

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Bắt đầu làm bài nào

The sellers of flowers buy up old
They off dead petals, like old heads of lettuce
And sell 'em as new ones, for cheaper and
But they die by the morning, so who is the

Not the roses, not the buyers, not the sellers, winter

'Cause coming, soon after summer
It runs faster, faster, off autumn
We go from a sun to only a white sun
We go a large sun to only a small one

I was a small girl, I walked through the market
Holding my dad's hand, mitten-gloved
That night there were roses, lit up in boxes
The heat lamps would keep them from freezing in

We never bought them but somebody have
Maybe they made it or maybe they up
any person had put them in water
And hoped that they'd still be alive by the

Who's the
Not the roses, not the buyers, not the sellers,
Not the tellers, of the stories,
Not the fathers, not children,
Not those on a dark night,
Through a memory forgetting,
Who's the winner, who's the
Maybe winter, maybe

Somebody on a light through a tunnel
They're holding a piece of their mind in the
Hold on, I won't let go, I to know

But no one lives long enough to see the
To know any answers, to know what the is
To know if the winter ever came
Than on that when I walked with my father

A small piece of ice, in my mind
Lodged in my thoughts, lodged in my
all around, cold all around
Warm inside, warm from inside

Who's the
Not the roses, not the buyers, not the sellers,
Not the tellers, of the stories,
Not the fathers, not children,
Who's the
Not the roses, not the buyers, not the sellers,
Not the tellers, of the stories,
Not the fathers, not children,
Not those on a dark night,
a memory they're forgetting,

Who's the winner, who's the
winter, maybe winter
Who's the winner, the winner
winter, maybe winter
Who's the winner, the winner