Luyện nghe bài hát The Calendar Hung Its Self

Does he your eyelids in the morning
when you start to raise your
And he sing to you incessantly
the place between your bed and wall?
Does he walk around all day at
with his feet inside shoes?
Looking down few steps
to pretend he with you.
Does he that place below your neck
that is favourite to be touched
and does he cry through sentences
like I love you far too
Does he lay awake listening to breath?
Worried that you smoke too cigarettes.
Is he now
on a floor?
For every of tile
are a thousand more
that you won't see
but most inside yourself
eternally.

I drug ghost across the country
and we out my death.
In city, memories would whisper,
Here is you rest.
I was in Chicago
but I dug my teeth my knees
and I for a telephone
and into your machine.
You are my sunshine, my only

I kissed a girl with a jaw
that her gave to her.
She had eyes bright enough to me.
reminded me of yours.
In a told she was a little girl
in a red-rouge, sun-bruised
and there were rows of ripe
a secret was concealed.
And it rose thunder,
under our hands.
And it for centuries
to a diary end
I wrote,
You make me
when the skies are
You make me
the are grey
and
and grey.

Well the clock's it hangs inside its open chest
with its hands stretched towards the calendar itself
but I will not for those dying days.
For all the who have left
are a few that stayed.
And they found me
and pulled me from the
I was laid.