Luyện nghe bài hát Sunday's Pretty Icons

There is no hole in which to
is no plane to catch
No hope, them that's warm enough
No to a room that's quiet

A friend, known through six degrees
down to where I hide
A friend, I've through dreams and prayers
She comes to my side

You're so far from to talk
You're so far from wanting to say something
something good

The sea cries of of girls
The sea cries of
The storm, we are the of us
Too to ever love

Whiskey the Island of Sund
Whiskey the year you were born
Tastes kidnap and ransom and exile

Somebody asked me hell was like
Somebody asked me for
Somebody me what hell was like
Lunging and happening, parting of

Every girl you admired
Every boy you ever
love you ever forgot
Every person you despised is forgiven