Luyện nghe bài hát The Belle of St. Mark

The of St. Mark was a frail but a passionate creature
hair and eyes a deep blue-green
The belle of St. Mark wore that belonged to his father
though he was only 17

I'm in love, I'm in love, I'm in love the belle of St. Mark
It tears me apart I hear him cry
I'm in love, I'm in love, I'm in love with the of St. Mark
And if he doesn't love me I think probably die

You can tell expressions that he makes public
That he suffers a badly broken heart
He smiles as he the afternoon pigeons
But he as he walks the night streets of St. Mark

I'm in love, I'm in love, I'm in love with the of St. Mark
It tears me apart I hear him cry
I'm in love, I'm in love, I'm in with the belle of St. Mark
And if he doesn't love me I think probably die

The belle of St. Mark, he don't talk to strangers, so mysterious
His erotic persuasion provokes me like no man
The fire I have for him is undoubtedly
I need to him see that he needs love to forget
And if anyone can him, I can
I can help, I can you

His Paris hair, it in the warm Parisian air
blows whenever his Paris hair is there
The woman that hurt him surely have trouble sleeping
'Cause the of St. Mark is a beauty extraordinaire

Oh, I'm in love, I'm in love, I'm in love with the belle of St.
It tears me whenever I hear him cry
I'm in love, I'm in love, I'm in love with the belle of St.
And if he doesn't me I think I'll probably die

Ooh, I'm in love, I'm in love, I'm in with the belle of St. Mark
It tears me apart whenever I him cry
Ooh, I'm in love, I'm in love, I'm in love with the of St. Mark
And if he doesn't me I think I'll probably die
And if he doesn't love me I I'll probably die
And if he don't, die