Luyện nghe bài hát Shadows

Memories of haunt me,
From the years I was young,
Things that used to me,
Are the things, That become

There's a moon in the clouds,
fog in the swamp,
Crickets chirpping my window; the water it thumps,
In the sink down the hall,
The lights sometimes,
The is howling-
The are growling way deep in the pines,
A car on the distant road, The only thing running
in my sleep, The Sandman is coming
I see the in the red cloak,
The are taking shape,
The of a faint voice, lost and full of hate,
Dry crumble under the feet of the Reaper,
The limbs tap on my window, the nails of a creature,
of goblins and fairies,
A on the prairie,
A murderer that escaped, I'm and weary,
strikes on the hill,
the cabin,
The old man on the porch, evil and laughing,
by demons,
I'm an and they all want me,
And to day,

Memories of haunt me,
From the when I was young,
Things that used to me,
Are the things, I've become,

Cigarette butts, and oil stains on the grass,
The of the liquor, rising up from the broken glass
The of black leather, The heat from the engines,
Motorcycles and Goons, Bearded men and women,
The crackling paint, The old shack the swinging light,
The Heroin needles passing, Open in sight,
Ozzy and Black Sabbath, The is skipping,
the fight in the kitchen,
Blood and kicking,
Smoke fills up the sky, on the trash heap,
The mattress is burning, I hear it and snapping,
The rain soaked bear, so heavy I can't lift it,
The flask for the moonshine, I as they all sip it,
The Halloween pumpkin candle lit a Pentagram,
The Grandfather Clock, a broken minute hand,
by thieves, killers,
Thugs and junkies,
And to day,

Memories of haunt me,
From the years I was young,
that used to terrify me,
Are the things, That become,

I on my leather jacket, a collection of biker patches,
One of them says savage, The one Black Sabbath,
tatted, barely any skin left,
Whiskey after twelve,
I'm always with death,
Bullet shells in my yard, gun on the shelf,
Run the roads like a wolf, through the Bible Belt,
Rattlesnake skin boots, up on the chopper,
Fifty Harleys behind me, all ready to slaughter,
in front of my sons,
Drunk in of my daughter,
Spit, cuss, and I yell,
It's like a quarter,
'Cause I'm only heads up. no which way you flip it,
No brake lights in my life, I'm rich or evicted,
to my convictions,
Committed crimes the quitters,
Connected to my religion, The of sinners,
a prayer to god,
Exhaling smoke off the pipe,
Like reflecting the ripples echo to next life,
So here I am standing just like the ashes that fell the fire,
A seed that off that poisonous and forgotten flower,
my own nightmare,
But now I think charming,
when,

Memories of shadow's me,
From the when I was young,
Things that used to me,
Are the things, I've become