Luyện nghe bài hát THE BACKING SINGER

Running through and rows, sizing up the meaning
for the camera and cries, her pot was always steaming
But he ask her again, for to him she is lumber
Storms on that horizon have blown, her rest on the tumbler

She decides to head down to omit the danger
Flowers in her dressing room and all from a stranger
To the bullet and mourn would take too much pain
She's to do it all on her own and out in the street rain

Now that you're out on own
For the needs you had they have grown
The and applause weren't your own and will go away
You pulled your own all the same
With your hunger, voice and a chain
Your was never the fame
This will all go

There is nothing more pure than love you said in a drunken
Three years later you're back with mother, and you eat what she brings
You're your living in bars and tied to street corners
You're a hit with the and cleaners and one for the mourners

Your voice never clutches at straws, you bury the morning
But, things were never the after you had left without hearing fair warning
Things have turned out this way, not even in your deepest fears
You can't ever go back to the crowds and to the old years

Now that you're out on own
For the needs you once had have grown
The lights and applause your own and will go away
You pulled your own weight all the
With your hunger, your and a chain
talent was never the fame
This all go away
This will all go
This all go away