Luyện nghe bài hát The Flower Called Nowhere

All the small boats on the water going anywhere
Surely they must be loaded with more simple matter
Floating on top and gracefully tending to the pole
All the small boats on the going nowhere

Is it true that of them will ever break free and sail?
the night is made of rocks, the stagnant mass
Is it true that none of them, will ever free and sail?
Break free from the stagnant things in obscurity
in obscurity

All the faces with eyes closed giving a smile
Weightless like a body that would to its own light
Is it true that none of these happy faces
not ever hear a cry, won't hear a cry?

Is it true that of these contented happy faces
not ever hear a cry?
Filled love not with desire, love not desire

Is it true that of these contented happy faces
Will not ever hear a
Filled with love not desire, love not desire

All the small boats on the water aren't anywhere
Surely they must be with more than simple matter
Floating on top and gracefully tending to the same
All the small boats on the water going

Is it true that none of them will ever break free and
Break free the stagnant things left in obscurity