Luyện nghe bài hát The Calendar Hung Its Self

Does he your eyelids in the morning
when you start to raise head?
And he sing to you incessantly
from the between your bed and wall?
Does he around all day at school
with his inside your shoes?
down every few steps
to pretend he with you.
he know that place below your neck
that is your favourite to be
and he cry through broken sentences
like I you far too much?
he lay awake listening to your breath?
Worried that you smoke too cigarettes.
Is he now
on a bathroom
For every speck of
there are a more
that you won't see
but most hold yourself
eternally.

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

I kissed a girl a broken jaw
that her father to her.
She had eyes bright enough to me.
reminded me of yours.
In a story told she was a little
in a red-rouge, sun-bruised
and there rows of ripe tomatoes
a secret was concealed.
And it like thunder,
clapped our hands.
And it stretched for
to a diary end
I wrote,
You me happy
when the skies are
You me happy
the are grey
and
and grey.

Well the heart it hangs inside its open chest
with its hands stretched towards the calendar itself
but I not weep for those dying days.
For all the ones who left
are a few that stayed.
And they me here
and me from the grass
I was laid.