Luyện nghe bài hát The Critical Distance (w: S H Jones)

Never beginning, ending days
when the ceiling is so low
I stand
And the blunted knife into me
in the airless heat
The walls into me
Nudging me way and that
>From one to
Like nervous
in my head a heart
Is out the boredom
Nudging me this way and
>From one to
Like nervous
I fall to claustrophobic sleep
And the ever-watching walls over me
But when I wake I feel
is nothing but a vast blank floor
And the walls are watching
I can never reach
No how far I walk
I can never them
And the knife begins to
in my hand
Slices through the blank distance
So I can see my hooded
Swipes the whitewash nothing
That my hooded girl
She walks to me across the furrowed
I see a human headed fish revolving in her
And the knife it
Like the piercing yellow sea
And slashes open dead sailors clouded
Spills their seaweed dreams me
Spill their seaweed dreams me
Spill their dreams over me
their seaweed dreams... over me
As I lie on the
the driftwood
And the watching walls lean over me