Luyện nghe bài hát The Calendar Hung Its Self

Does he kiss your eyelids in the
when you start to raise head?
And does he sing to you
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 know that place below your
that is your favourite to be
and does he cry through 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 floor?
For every of tile
there are a thousand
that you ever 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 into my knees
and I settled for a
and into your machine.
You are my sunshine, my only

I kissed a with a broken jaw
that her gave to her.
She had bright enough to burn me.
reminded me of yours.
In a story told she was a little
in a red-rouge, field
and there were rows of ripe
where a was concealed.
And it like thunder,
clapped our hands.
And it stretched for
to a entry's end
I wrote,
You make me
when the skies are
You me happy
the are grey
and
and grey.

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